With one Step
by ShadowFire225
Summary: Vanya is back, but this time she is not alone. A mysterious stone was given her from Lady Galadriel, which turned out to be a Dragon's egg. Now, an old threat is on the rise. Vanya and her father must help the ring bearer, Frodo, destroy the one ring.
1. Begining of the Journey

Disclaimer:

DD: lol, I just noticed the way I sign the disclaimer looks like a sad face.

Vanya: That has nothing to do with this, what brought it up?

DD: I have absolutely no idea...

Vanya: Would you be so kind as to get on with it so your readers may enjoy the story?

DD: um... why don't YOU do it?

Vanya: You merely wish to run outside and join the others in the snowball fight they are having.

DD: that's... only part of the reason. The snow is so noce and fluffy, and perfect for snowballs! *looks out window* OMG! It's snowing AGAIN!

Vanya: The quicker you get the disclaimer done with, the quicker you can get outside.

DD: wait, why aren't you outside?

Vanya: I was, but Elrohir and Rumil shoved a large snowball down my tunic.

DD: You are such a child. Go make another snowball and pelt them in the face with it.

Vanya: *evil grin* I believe I shall do that.

DD: Would you be so kind as too...?

Vanya: of course.

Both: DragonridingDunedain225 owns nothing save her characters Vanya and Minuial, and a miniscule portion of this plot.

DD: SNOW TIME!

* * *

The night was calm and quiet. A few lonely bids chirped here and there, but everything was, otherwise, silent. A slight southern breeze ruffled the colorful leaves of fall, sending several blowing off the trees, while others held on vainly. It was this night that found a young woman sitting on a large bolder. She wore an earthy colored cloth shirt, soft leather trousers, a leather vest, and a weather-beaten forest green cloak. On her feet were high boots made of soft, yet durable, leather.

Her head was trained to the south, listening to voices that the wind carried. Slowly, she turned her head to face the west. The sun had been long down. Looking up, she saw that the moon was almost at the angle that she would wake Aragorn and get some sleep herself. Standing up, she stretched and silently walked around. Scanning the trees and bushes, and finding nothing around, she woke Aragorn up.

'**Wake up**.' She said. '**It's your watch.**'

Aragorn sat up and ran his hand down his face.

'**Alright, get some sleep; we shall head out once the sun has risen.**' He replied. '**See you in the morning Vanya.**'

Vanya nodded and curled up in her cloak. A small, four-legged figure crept over to her. It had shimmering red scales and a black stripe running from its head to the tip of its tail. Turning towards it, Vanya scooped it up and laid it next to her. The small creature was a dragon. It had hatched only two days before and was slightly bigger than a cat. Vanya had named it *Minuial. With the small creature beside her, she quickly fell asleep. It seemed like only a few minutes before Aragorn shook her awake again.

'**Let us go, the sun is up and we must get to Bree.**' He said.

'**Very well.**' Vanya answered.

Standing up, she looked around. More leaves had fallen off the trees and had been scattered around. The light breeze that had been blowing during her night watch had turned into a gusty wind. Minuial woke up and clambered up onto Vanya's shoulder.

'**It is going to rain.**' Vanya said to no one in particular.

Aragorn nodded in agreement.

'**But not until tonight, I should think.**' He said.

Together they packed up the small camp they had made that night and set off towards Bree. They were a little more than eight leagues away. Arriving just before the rain, Vanya and Aragorn stabled their horses in the inn and sat in the far corner of the room. Vanya scooted the little dragon into the darkest spot so the glimmer of its scales wouldn't be noticed. The last dragon to be seen was 'Smaug the Golden.' He was a powerful, but greedy, reddish-gold dragon. He had died twelve years before Vanya's birth.

With consuming Dragon-flame, Smaug ruined the city of the Men of Dale and broke the door and wall of the Lonely Mountain. The Dwarves that lived there fled or were slain and Smaug took the riches of the mountain and the town: gold and gemstones, mithril and silver, elf gems and pearls, the many faceted crystals of emerald, sapphire and diamond.

Men still knew the stories of Smaug, and the sight of a dragon again would cause a panic, even a small one such as Minuial. So Vanya kept her hidden. Minuial made a small squeak, indicating she was hungry.

'_You must stay silent._' Vanya said to the small dragon's mind. '_I will get you something to eat soon, but you must stay silent._'

The dragon snorted, signifying it understood.

'_Good girl._' Vanya told her.

Vanya and the dragon had a mental connection, each knew what the other was feeling, or thinking. Once Minuial was big enough, Vanya would be able to ride her. But until then, she had to teach Minuial about the world around her. But the mental connection was not restricted to just the dragon. Both Vanya and Minuial could make their thoughts know to other people. And as long as they kept the connection, the other person could reply in the same manner.

Just then, Mr. Barliman, the inn keeper, wandered over.

'Anything I can get you?' He asked.

Like most folk around these parts, Barliman was nervous of the Dunedain, or Rangers, as they were called by common folk.

'We need a plate of beef and a pint of ale.' Vanya replied shortly.

Barliman nodded and hurried off, happy to have them not want to talk. After he left, Vanya glanced out the window at the pouring rain.

'I hope the rain does not hinder them.' Vanya said, meaning the hobbits.

'If they are anything like Gandalf said they would be I'm sure they'll be fine.' Aragorn replied.

Barliman came back with the ale and the meat a moment later. But he didn't stay long. Vanya put the plate on the seat next to her and Minuial snapped up the meat.

A moment later the door opened and four hobbits came in. Aragorn and Vanya shared a glance, and then turned their attention to the hobbits. The newcomers walked up to the counter.

'Can we-' began the one in the front.

'Half a minute, if you please!' shouted the man over his shoulder, and vanished into a babble of voices and a cloud of smoke. In a moment he was out again, wiping his hands on his apron.

'Good evening, little master!' he said, bending down. 'What may you be wanting?'

'Beds for four, and stabling for five ponies, if that can be managed. Are you Mr. Butterbur?'

'That's right! Barliman is my name. Barliman Butterbur at your service! You're from the Shire, eh?' he said, and then suddenly he clapped his hand to his forehead, as if trying to remember something. 'Hobbits!' he cried. 'Now what does that remind me of? Might I ask your names, sir?'

'Mr. Took and Mr. Brandybuck,' said the leader; 'and this is Sam Gamgee. My name is Underhill.'

'There they are.' Vanya whispered.

Aragorn nodded and they pulled their hoods up. The hobbits were being introduced to several of the men around and were sharing stories with other hobbits.

Suddenly, the hobbit who had checked in noticed two people were listening intently to his conversation, a strange-looking weather-beaten man and a tall, elegant woman. The man had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits.

The woman was dressed in a similar fashion, but did not have a pipe. She sat in the darkest corner of their table, and seemed to be stroking something. Although what it was could not be seen. .

'Who are they?' Frodo asked when he got a chance to whisper to Mr. Butterbur. 'I don't think you introduced them?'

'Them?' said the landlord in an answering whisper, cocking an eye without turning his head. 'I don't rightly know. They're a couple of the wandering folk -Rangers we call them. They seldom talk: not but what they can tell a rare tale when they have the mind. They disappear for a month, or a year, and then they pop up again. They were in and out pretty often last spring; but I haven't seen them about lately. What their right names are, I've never heard: but the man's known round here as Strider. Goes about at a great pace on his long shanks; though he don't tell nobody what cause he has to hurry. And the woman is always with him, so the people have taken to calling her Shadow, 'cuz she follows him around like a little shadow. But there's no accounting for East and West, as we say in Bree, meaning the Rangers and the Shire-folk, begging your pardon. Funny you should ask about them.'

But at that moment Mr. Butterbur was called away by a demand for more ale and his last remark remained unexplained.

Frodo found that Strider was now looking at him, as if he had heard or guessed all that had been said. Presently, with a wave of his hand and a nod, he invited Frodo to come over and sit by him. As Frodo drew near the two threw back their hoods. The man had a shaggy head of dark hair flecked with grey, a pale stern face, and a pair of keen grey eyes. The woman had long, smooth, black hair, and angular face with a pair of pointed ears, and piercing green eyes.

'I am called Strider, and this is my… companion.' he said in a low voice.

'Most call me Shadow.' The woman said.

'We are very pleased to meet you. Master – Underhill, if old Butterbur got your name right.' Strider said.

'He did,' said Frodo stiffly. He felt far from comfortable under the stare of those keen eyes.

'Well, Master Underhill,' said Strider, 'if I were you, I should stop your young friends from talking too much. Drink, fire, and chance-meeting are pleasant enough, but, well – this isn't the Shire. There are queer folk about.

'And there have been even stranger travelers through Bree lately,' Shadow said, watching Frodo's face.

Frodo returned his gaze but said nothing; and Strider made no further sign. His attention seemed suddenly to be fixed on Pippin. To his alarm Frodo became aware that the ridiculous young Took, encouraged by his success with the fat Mayor of Michel Delving, was now actually giving a comic account of Bilbo's farewell party. He was already giving an imitation of the Speech, and was drawing near to the astonishing Disappearance. Frodo fidgeted, wondering what to do. Pippin was evidently much enjoying the attention he was getting, and had become quite forgetful of their danger. Frodo had a sudden fear that in his present mood he might even mention the Ring; and that might well be disastrous.

'_You had better do something quick!_' Shadow whispered in his mind.

Frodo jumped up and stood on a table, and began to talk. The attention of Pippin's audience was disturbed. Some of the hobbits looked at Frodo and laughed and clapped, thinking that Mr. Underhill had taken as much ale as was good for him.

Everyone in the room was now looking at him. 'A song!' shouted one of the hobbits.

'A song! A song!' shouted all the others. 'Come on now, master, sing us something that we haven't heard before!' For a moment Frodo stood gaping.

'_Well, go on._' Shadow whispered. '_Sing them something._'

Then in desperation he began a ridiculous song about an inn.

As Frodo sang, Aragorn turned to his daughter.

'**This is dangerous ground you're trading on, Vanya.**' He said.

'**I know that, I am making sure he believes that the voice is his own, something that is just tickling him, giving him ideas.**'

'**Just be careful.**' Aragorn restated. '**We don't want him anymore suspicious than he already is.**'

'**I understand Aragorn.**' Vanya replied. '**Don't worry.**'

There was loud and long applause after he finished. Frodo had a good voice, and the song tickled their fancy.

'Where's old Barley?' they cried. 'He ought to hear this. Bob ought to learn his cat the fiddle, and then we'd have a dance.' They called for more ale, and began to shout: 'Let's have it again, master! Come on now! Once more!'

They made Frodo have another drink, and then begin his song again, while many of them joined in; for the tune was well known, and they were quick at picking up words. It was now Frodo's turn to feel pleased with himself. He capered about on the table; and when he came a second time to 'the cow jumped over the Moon' he leaped in the air. Much too vigorously; for he came down, bang, into a tray full of mugs, and slipped, and rolled off the table with a crash, clatter, and bump!

The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped short a gaping silence; for the singer disappeared. He simply vanished, as if he had gone right through the floor without leaving a hole!

'_**That idiot!**_' Vanya hissed, making her thoughts known to Aragorn.

'_**There's no helping it now**__._' Aragorn replied.

The local hobbits stared in amazement, and then sprang to their feet and shouted for Barliman. All the company drew away from Pippin and Sam, who found themselves left alone in a comer, and eyed darkly and doubtfully from a distance. It was plain that many people regarded them now as the companions of a travelling magician of unknown powers and purpose. But there was one swarthy Bree-Lander, who stood looking at them with a knowing and half-mocking expression that made them feel very uncomfortable. Presently he slipped out of the door, followed by the squint-eyed southerner: the two had been whispering together a good deal during the evening. Harry the gatekeeper also went out just behind them.

Frodo felt foolish. Not knowing what else to do, he crawled away under the tables to the dark comer by Strider and Shadow, who sat unmoved, giving no sign of their thoughts. Frodo leaned back against the wall and took off the Ring.

'Well?' said Strider, when he reappeared. 'Why did you do that? Worse than anything your friends could have said! You have put your foot in it! Or should I say your finger?'

'I don't know what you mean,' said Frodo, annoyed and alarmed.

'Oh yes, you do,' answered Strider; 'but we had better wait until the uproar has died down. Then, if you please, Mr. Baggins, I should like a quiet word with you.'

'What about?' asked Frodo, ignoring the sudden use of his proper name.

'A matter of some importance – to us both,' answered Shadow, looking Frodo in the eye. 'You may hear something to your advantage.'

'Very well,' said Frodo, trying to appear unconcerned. 'I'll talk to you later.'

* * *

A/N: So, I live. Surprisingly enough. Sorry for the long wait, way too much has been going on. I started college courses last semester and that took up a lot of time, this semester is much easier though. Also, the muses for most of my stories are missing. I won't work on several of the others for a while as I am unsure of where my plots will actually go.

On a happier note I got a pet squirrel. He is the cutest thing ever. I named him Pippin because on each of his paws he has little brown spots that look like the fur on a hobbit's foot. He eats like a hobbit too, lol. Although he isn't an indoor squirrel, he still lives outdoors, but he'll come up to me if I'm outside and I give him different nuts and things. Mom says I spoil him... which I probably do.

Anyway, for the story. Anything that is **Bold** is being spoken in Elvish. Anything that is _Italicised_ is being spoken through thoughts. If you have both... well, I'm sure you all are smart enough to figure what that is. How they came about finding the hobbits is slightly different than what happened in the books, but I have no idea what took place, therefore (as it is my story) i have changed things around a little. And as I said in the disclaimer, I own very little of the plot. Anything that seems familiar is most likely taken directly from the books themselves. I shall be following the entire journey, splitting it up into three stories (as Tolkien has done).

Although, the mind speaking I sortof took from both Eragon and a book series called 'animorphs' (or something like that, I haven't read it since I was nine). Ever since I made my character (when I was ten or eleven {because I first read LotR when I was 8 and have read it 15 times since}) she has had a Dragon companion. I would waffle back and forth between mind speaking and regular speaking. After Eragon I finally decided on mind speaking. But there is no magic acompanying the connection. And for you reader to get a lot of what goes on with Vanya, I would suggest reading my other LotR story 'The Life of a Ranger's Daughter'. I will be explaining/simplifying things throughout this story, but it would probably help to read that one first.

Sorry the Author's Note was so long. This will be the last long one for a while. I wanted to clear up something and such.

Don't forget to Rate and Review!

~ DD

P.S. Oh yeah, thanks to this story, everyone will get my username.

*Minuial (Pronounced 'mine-you-all") ~ Elvish for dawn (More literally the time near dawn, when the stars fade).


	2. The Telling of a Tale

Disclaimer:

DD: wow, two posts in two days. That's a first for me.

Vanya: Not quite, you have done it once before.

DD: Oh yeah... I don't recall what story that was.

Vanya: Are you always so distracted when you do the disclaimer?

DD: Um... not all the time.

Vanya: Just get it over with so your readers can do what they came here for... _read_.

DD: Yes, yes. I do not own Lord of the Rings. I only own Vanya and Minuial, and any part of the story that is not part of the original plot (which is really only a few chapters).

* * *

Frodo, Pippin, and Sam made their way back to the parlor. Aragorn and Vanya followed them silently. There was no light. Merry was not there, and the fire had burned low. It was not until they had puffed up the embers into a blaze and thrown on a couple of faggots that they discovered Strider and Shadow had come with them. There they were, calmly sitting in a couple chairs by the door!

'Hallo!' said Pippin. 'Who are you, and what do you want?'

'I am called Strider, this is my companion Shadow.' Strider answered:

'And though he may have forgotten it, your friend promised to have a quiet talk with us.' Shadow finished.

'You said I might hear something to my advantage, I believe,' said Frodo. 'What have you to say?'

'Several things,' answered Strider. 'But, of course, I have my price.'

'What do you mean?' asked Frodo sharply.

'Don't be alarmed! I mean just this: we will tell you what we know, and give you some good advice – but we shall want a reward.'

'And what will that be, pray?' said Frodo. He suspected now that he had fallen in with a couple of rascals, and he thought uncomfortably that he had brought only a little money with him. All of it would hardly satisfy a rogue, and he could not spare any of it.

'No more than you can afford,' answered Strider with a slow smile, as if he guessed Frodo's thoughts. 'Just this: you must take us along with you, until we wish to leave you.'

'Oh, indeed!' replied Frodo, surprised, but not much relieved. 'Even if I wanted another companion, I should not agree to any such thing, until I knew a good deal more about you, and your business.'

'Excellent!' exclaimed Strider, crossing his legs and sitting back comfortably. 'You seem to be coming to your senses again, and that is all to the good. You have been much too careless so far. Very well! We will tell you what we know, and leave the reward to you. You may be glad to grant it, when you have heard us.'

'Go on then!' said Frodo. 'What do you know?'

'Too much; too many dark things,' said Strider grimly. 'But as for your business -'

He got up and went to the door, opened it quickly and looked out. Then he shut it quietly and sat down again.

'I have quick ears,' he went on, lowering his voice, 'and though we cannot disappear, we have hunted many wild and wary things and we can usually avoid being seen, if we wish.

'Now,' Shadow said. 'We were approached by an old friend who told us that a hobbit named Baggins would be traveling in disguise as a Mr. Underhill.'

'Maybe Mr. Baggins has an honest reason for leaving his name behind;' Strider said. 'But if so, I should advise him and his friends to be more careful.'

'I don't see what interest my name has for any one in Bree,' said Frodo angrily, 'and I have still to learn why it interests you. And I would advise you to explain your interest.'

'Well answered!' said Strider laughing. 'But the explanation is simple: We were looking for a Hobbit called Frodo Baggins.'

'As I said earlier.' Shadow said.

'We wanted to find him quickly. We had learned that he was carrying out of the Shire, well, a secret that concerned us and our friends.'

'Now, don't mistake me!' he cried, as Frodo rose from his seat, and Sam jumped up with a scowl.

'We shall take more care of the secret than you do. And care is needed!' He leaned forward and looked at them. 'Watch every shadow!' he said in a low voice.

'Black horsemen have passed through Bree.' Shadow said. 'On Monday one came down the Greenway, they say; and another appeared later, coming up the Greenway from the south.'

There was a silence. At last Frodo spoke to Pippin and Sam: 'I ought to have guessed it from the way the gatekeeper greeted us,' he said. 'And the landlord seems to have heard something. Why did he press us to join the company? And why on earth did we behave so foolishly: we ought to have stayed quiet in here.'

'It would have been better,' said Strider. 'We would have stopped your going into the common room, if we could; but the innkeeper would not let us in to see you, or take a message.'

'Do you think he–––' began Frodo.

'No, I don't think any harm of old Butterbur. Only he does not altogether like mysterious vagabonds of my sort.' Frodo gave him a puzzled look. 'Well, I have rather a rascally look, have I not?' said Strider with a curl of his lip and a queer gleam in his eye. 'But I hope we shall get to know one another better. When we do, I hope you will explain what happened at the end of your song. For that little prank–––'

'It was sheer accident!' interrupted Frodo.

'I wonder,' said Strider. 'Accident then. That accident has made your position dangerous.'

'Hardly more than it was already,' said Frodo. 'I knew these horsemen were pursuing me; but now at any rate they seem to have missed me and to have gone away.'

'You must not count on that!' said Strider sharply. 'They will return. And more are coming. There are others. We know their number. We know these Riders.' He paused, and his eyes were cold and hard.

'And there are some folk in Bree who are not to be trusted,' Shadow said. 'Bill Ferny is one, for instance. He has an evil name in the Bree-land, and queer folk call at his house. You must have noticed him among the company: a swarthy sneering fellow. He was very close with one of the Southern strangers, and they slipped out together just after your "accident". Not all of those Southerners mean well; and as for Ferny, he would sell anything to anybody; or make mischief for amusement.'

'What will Ferny sell, and what has my accident got to do with him?' said Frodo, still determined not to understand Strider and Shadow's hints.

'News of you, of course,' answered Strider. 'An account of your performance would be very interesting to certain people. After that they would hardly need to be told your real name. It seems to me only too likely that they will hear of it before this night is over. Is that enough? You can do as you like about our reward: take us as guides or not. But I may say that we know all the lands between the Shire and the Misty Mountains, for we have wandered over them for many years.

'We are older than we look.' Shadow said. 'We might prove useful. You will have to leave the open road after tonight; for the horsemen will watch it night and day. You may escape from Bree, and be allowed to go forward while the Sun is up; but you won't go far. They will come on you in the wild, in some dark place where there is no help. Do you wish them to find you?'

'Perhaps we know more about these pursuers than you do.' Strider said. 'You fear them, but you do not fear them enough, yet. Tomorrow you will have to escape, if you can. Shadow and I can take you by paths that are seldom trodden. Will you have us?'

There was a heavy silence. Frodo made no answer. Sam frowned, and looked at his master; and at last he broke out:

'With your leave, Mr. Frodo, I'd say no! This people here, they warn and they say take care; and I say yes to that, and let's begin with them. They come out of the Wild, and I never heard no good of such folk. They know something, that's plain, and more than I like; but it's no reason why we should let them go leading us out into some dark place far from help, as they put it.'

Pippin fidgeted and looked uncomfortable. Shadow smirked. Strider did not reply to Sam, but turned his keen eyes on Frodo. Frodo caught his glance and looked away.

'No,' he said slowly. 'I don't agree. I think, I think you are not really as you choose to look. You began to talk to me like the Bree-folk, but your voice has changed. Still Sam seems right in this: I don't see why you should warn us to take care, and yet ask us to take you on trust. Why the disguise? Who are you? What do you really know about – about my business; and how do you know it?'

'The lesson in caution has been well learned,' said Strider with a grim smile. 'But caution is one thing and wavering is another. You will never get to Rivendell now on your own, and to trust us is your only chance. You must make up your mind. We will answer some of your questions, if that will help you to do so. But why should you believe our story, if you do not trust us already? Still here it is–––'

At that moment there came a knock at the door. Mr. Butterbur had arrived with candles, and behind him was Nob with cans of hot water. Strider and Shadow withdrew into a dark corner. He had come in to bid the hobbits a good night and to deliver a letter he had forgotten on several occasions. It was from the wizard, Gandalf. Barliman handed the letter to Frodo.

'Leaving the letter aside, I promised Gandalf no less. Barley, he says to me, this friend of mine from the Shire, he may be coming out this way before long, him and another. He'll be calling himself Underhill. Mind that! But you need ask no questions. And if I'm not with him, he may be in trouble, and he may need help. Do whatever you can for him, and I'll be grateful, he says. And here you are, and trouble is not far off, seemingly.'

'What do you mean?' asked Frodo.

'These black men,' said the landlord lowering his voice. 'They're looking for _Baggins,_ and if they mean well, then I'm a hobbit. It was on Monday, and all the dogs were yammering and the geese screaming. Uncanny, I called it. Nob, he came and told me that two black men were at the door asking for a hobbit called Baggins. Nob's hair was all stood on end. I bid the black fellows be off, and slammed the door on them; but they've been asking the same question all the way to Archet, I hear. And those Rangers, Strider and Shadow, they've been asking questions, too. Tried to get in here to see you, before you'd had bite or sup, they did.'

'They did!' said Strider suddenly, the two of them coming forward into the light. 'And much trouble would have been saved, if you had let them in, Barliman.'

The landlord jumped with surprise. 'You!' he cried. 'You two are always popping up. What do you want now?'

'They're here with my leave,' said Frodo. 'They came to offer me their help.'

'Well, you know your own business, maybe,' said Mr. Butterbur, looking suspiciously at Strider and Shadow.

'But if I was in your plight, I wouldn't take up with a couple of Rangers.'

'Then who would you take up with?' Demanded Shadow, stepping forward a pace. 'A fat innkeeper who only remembers his own name because people shout it at him all day? 'They cannot stay in "The Pony" for ever, and they cannot go home.' Strider said. 'They have a long road before them. Will you go with them and keep the black men off?'

Barliman wouldn't have left Bree on a journey like that for all the money in the world, but he did promise to help in anyway he could. Soon afterwards, he left to see to his other patrons.

'Well?' said Strider. 'When are you going to open that letter?'

Frodo looked carefully at the seal before he broke it. He and the other hobbits looked through it.

"Dear Frodo,

Bad news has reached me here. I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag End soon, and get out of the Shire before the end of July at latest. I will return as soon as I can; and I will follow you, if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here, if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord (Butterbur). You may meet a couple friends of mine on the Road: a Man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider and a woman, tall, lithe, always around the man, by some called Shadow. They know our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There I hope we may meet again. If I do not come, Elrond will advise you.

Yours in haste

GANDALF.

P.S. Do NOT use It again, not far any reason whatever! Do not travel by night! _

P.P.S. Make sure that it is the real Strider and Shadow. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn, and the woman's is his daughter, Vanya.

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

P.P.P.S. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him.

Fare Well!"

'Really old Butterbur has made a mess of things!' he said. 'He deserves roasting. If I had got this at once, we might all have been safe in Rivendell by now. But what can have happened to Gandalf? He writes as if he was going into great danger.'

'He has been doing that for many years,' said Strider.

Shadow smiled and nodded. Frodo turned and looked at them thoughtfully, wondering about Gandalf's second postscript.

'Why didn't you tell me that you were Gandalf's friends at once?' he asked. 'It would have saved time.'

'Would it? Would any of you have believed us till now?' said Strider. 'We knew nothing of this letter. For all I knew we had to persuade you to trust us without proofs, if we were to help you. But I must admit,' he added with a queer laugh, 'that I hoped you would take to me for my own sake. A hunted man sometimes wearies of distrust and longs for friendship. But there, I believe my looks are against me.'

'They are – at first sight at any rate,' laughed Pippin with sudden relief after reading Gandalf's letter. 'But handsome is as handsome does, as we say in the Shire; and I daresay we shall all look much the same after lying for days in hedges and ditches.'

'It would take more than a few days, or weeks, or years, of wandering in the Wild to make you look like Strider,' Shadow answered. 'And you would die first, unless you are made of sterner stuff than you look to be.'

Pippin subsided; but Sam was not daunted, and he still eyed the pair dubiously.

'How do we know you are the Strider and Shadow that Gandalf speaks about?' he demanded. 'You never mentioned Gandalf, till this letter came out. You might be play-acting spies, for all I can see, trying to get us to go with you. You might have done in the real Strider and Shadow and took their clothes. What have you to say to that?'

'That you are a stout fellow,' answered Strider; 'but I am afraid my only answer to you, Sam Gamgee, is this. If we had killed the real Strider and Shadow, we could kill you. And we should have killed you already without so much talk. If we were after the Ring, we could have it – NOW!'

They stood up, and Strider seemed suddenly to grow taller. In his eyes gleamed a light, keen and commanding. Throwing back his cloak, he laid his hand on the hilt of a sword that had hung concealed by his side. Shadow crouched down and bared her teeth. Her eyes turned a bright golden yellow.

'_Minuial_' she called with her mind.

The dragon glided out of the shadows. She crouched and spread her wings out wide. Then she made a roar that came out more as a squeak. However, it still frightened the hobbits. They did not dare to move. Sam sat wide-mouthed staring at them dumbly.

'But we are the real Strider and Shadow, fortunately,' Strider said, looking down at them with his face softened by a sudden smile.

Shadow stood up a smiled, her eyes turned back to their normal piercing green. Minuial perched on her shoulder and made a gentle humming noise.

'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and this is my daughter Vanya; and if by life or death we can save you,'

'We will.' Shadow finished.

* * *

A/N: We have more snow. The fourth day in a row that we have had snow fall.  
It. Is. Awesome!

So I just got back from a sleep over with a friend of mine, we had a Harry Potter marathon. We watched movies 1, 5, and 6. during which we designed Hogwarts robes, make House Crests (out of those meltable beads), and made our own wands. We are nerds, but we are proud of it :)

Don't forget to Rate and Review!

~ DD


	3. Darkness Strikes Once

Disclaimer:

DD: The snow has finally stopped!

Vanya: I thought you liked snow?

DD: I do, but when it makes you miss nearly a week of school, it starts to get old.

Vanya: True. However I have one question

DD: And that would be what?

Vanya: Why you can never just say the disclaimer.

DD: Because I'm awesome like that?

Vanya: Right

DD: I own nothing save Vanya and Minuial. Most of the plot is following the books and only a few chapters you will see are completely of my own making.

* * *

There was a long silence. At last Frodo spoke with hesitation. 'I believed that you were friends before the letter came,' he said, 'or at least I wished to. You have frightened me several times tonight, but never in the way that the servants of the Enemy would, or so I imagine. I think his spies would – well, seem fairer and feel fouler, if you understand.'

'I see,' laughed Strider. 'I look foul and feel fair. Is that it? All that is gold does not glitter,'

'Not all those who wander are lost.' Shadow said.

'Did the verses apply to you then?' asked Frodo. 'I could not make out what they were about. But how did you know that they were in Gandalf's letter, if you have never seen it?'

'I did not know,' he answered. 'But I am Aragorn.'

'And I am Vanya.' Shadow said.

'And those verses go with those names.' He drew out his sword, and they saw that the blade was broken a foot below the hilt. 'Not much use is it, Sam?' said Strider. 'But the time is near when it shall be forged anew.'

Sam said nothing.

'Well,' said Strider, 'with Sam's permission we will call that settled.'

'Strider and Shadow shall be your guides.' Shadow said. 'We shall have a rough road tomorrow. Even if we are allowed to leave Bree unhindered, we can hardly hope now to leave it unnoticed. But we shall try to get lost as soon as possible.'

'We know one or two ways out of Bree-land other than the main road.' Strider said. 'If once we shake off the pursuit, we shall make for Weathertop.'

'Weathertop?' said Sam. 'What's that?'

'It is a hill, just to the north of the Road, about half way from here to Rivendell.' Strider explained. 'It commands a wide view all round; and there we shall have a chance to look about us. Gandalf will make for that point, if he follows us. After Weathertop our journey will become more difficult, and we shall have to choose between various dangers.'

'When did you last see Gandalf?' asked Frodo. 'Do you know where he is, or what he is doing?'

Strider and Shadow looked grave.

'I do not know,' Strider said. 'We came west with him in the spring. We have often kept watch on the borders of the Shire in the last few years, when he was busy elsewhere. He seldom left it unguarded. We last met on the first of May. He told us that his business with you had gone well, and that you would be starting for Rivendell in the last week of September. As I knew he was at your side, we went away on a journey of our own. And that has proved ill; for plainly some news reached him, and we were not at hand to help.

'We are troubled, for the first time since we have known him.' Shadow said. 'We should have had messages, even if he could not come himself. When we returned, many days ago, we heard the ill news. It was the Elven-folk of Gildor that told us this; and later they told us that you had left your home; but there was no news of your leaving Buckland.'

'Do you think the Black Riders have anything to do with it – with Gandalf's absence, I mean?' asked Frodo.

'I do not know of anything else that could have hindered him, except the Enemy himself,' said Strider. 'But do not give up hope! Gandalf is greater than you Shire-folk know.'

'As a rule you can only see his jokes and toys.' Shadow said. 'But this business of ours will be his greatest task.'

At that moment they heard a door slam; then feet came running along the passage. Merry came in with a rush followed by Nob. He shut the door hastily, and leaned against it. He was out of breath. They stared at him in alarm for a moment before he gasped: 'I have seen them, Frodo! I have seen them! Black Riders!'

'Black Riders!' cried Frodo. 'Where?'

'Here. In the village. I stayed indoors for an hour. Then I went out for a stroll. I had come back again and was standing just outside the light of the lamp looking at the stars. Suddenly I shivered and felt that something horrible was creeping near. There was a deeper shade among the shadows across the road, just beyond the edge of the lamplight. It slid away at once into the dark without a sound. There was no horse.'

'Which way did it go?' asked Strider, suddenly and sharply.

Merry started, noticing the strangers for the first time.

'Go on!' said Frodo. 'These are friends of Gandalf's. I will explain later.'

'It seemed to make off up the Road, eastward,' continued Merry. 'I tried to follow. Of course, it vanished almost at once; but I went round the corner and on as far as the last house on the Road.'

Strider looked at Merry with wonder.

'You have a stout heart,' he said; 'but it was foolish.'

'I don't know,' said Merry. 'Neither brave nor silly, I think. I could hardly help myself. I seemed to be drawn somehow. Anyway, I went, and suddenly I heard voices by the hedge. One was muttering; and the other was whispering, or hissing. I couldn't hear a word that was said. I did not creep any closer, because I began to tremble all over. Then I felt terrified, and I turned back, and was just going to bolt home, when something came behind me and I... I fell over.'

Nob had found him and Merry said that he had had an Ugly dream and he fell to pieces. It was the result of the rider's "Black Breath."

'The Riders must have left their horses outside, and passed back through the South-gate in secret.' Strider said.

'They will know all the news now, for they have visited Bill Ferny; and probably that Southerner was a spy as well.' Shadow remarked. 'Something may happen in the night, before we leave Bree.'

Strider nodded in agreement.

'What will happen?' said Merry. 'Will they attack the inn?'

'No, I think not,' said Strider. 'They are not all here yet. And in any case that is not their way. In dark and loneliness they are strongest; they will not openly attack a house where there are lights and many people.'

'But their power is in terror, and already some in Bree are in their clutch.' Shadow said. 'They will drive these wretches to some evil work: Ferny, and some of the strangers, and, maybe, the gatekeeper too.

'They had words with Harry at West-gate on Monday.' Strider commented. 'We were watching them. He was white and shaking when they left him.'

'We seem to have enemies all round,' said Frodo. 'What are we to do?'

'Stay here, and do not go to your rooms!' Strider told them. 'They are sure to have found out which those are. The hobbit-rooms have windows looking north and close to the ground. We will all remain together and bar this window and the door. But first Nob and I will fetch your luggage.'

'_**I will stay with the hobbits**__._' Shadow told Strider.

'_**Good, we will be right back. Keep your ears open.**_' Strider said.

While Strider was gone, Frodo gave Merry a rapid account of all that had happened since supper. Merry was still reading and pondering Gandalf's letter when Strider and Nob returned. Nob told them that he had ruffled up the clothes and put in a bolster down the middle of each bed. Pippin laughed.

'Very life-like!' he said. 'But what will happen when they have penetrated the

disguise?'

'We shall see,' said Strider. 'Let us hope to hold the fort till morning.'

Nob said 'good night' and went off to take his part in the watch on the doors. Their bags and gear they piled on the parlour-floor. They pushed a low chair against the door and shut the window. Peering out, Frodo saw that the night was still clear. The Sickle was swinging bright above the shoulders of Bree-hill. He then closed and barred the heavy inside shutters and drew the curtains together. Strider built up the fire and blew out all the candles. The hobbits lay down on their blankets with their feet towards the hearth; but Strider settled himself in the chair against the door. Shadow stood beside him, stroking the small dragon perched on her shoulder. They talked for a little, for Merry still had several questions to ask.

'Jumped over the Moon!' chuckled Merry as he rolled himself in his blanket. 'Very ridiculous of you, Frodo! But I wish I had been there to see. The worthies of Bree will be discussing it a hundred years hence.'

'I hope so,' said Strider. Then they all fell silent, and one by one the hobbits dropped off to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! But only one review (and a freaking awesome review by the way! Thank you Luna Elen! You get a cookie!)

Vanya: How can you give her a cookie?

DD: I'm giving her a virtual cookie.

Vanya: But... she cannot eat it.

DD: It is symbolic.

Vanya: how is it symbolic?

DD: ... um, I am not sure... it just is.

Vanya: See there? Even you don't know.

DD: Don't make me do something mean.

Vanya: You already planning on -

DD: *covers Vanya's mouth* SH! No spoilers! And I wasn't talking about _that_. I mean do something mean to Haldir.

Vanya: You wouldn't!

DD: I'm the author.

Vanya: *glares* I could put you in the closet, with a clown.

DD: You wouldn't dare!

Vanya: Would you like to try me?

DD: Ah, but I put down the author card again. I'm the only one who can finish the story and bring you and a certain someone together.

Vanya: I despise you.

DD: No, you love me.

Don't forget to Rate and Review! But mostly review please! =)

~ DD


	4. Start of Adventure

Disclaimer:

DD: Am I the only one who is happy to go back to school?

Vanya: No, several of your friends are glad to be returning.

DD: Well, that just proves they are as strange as I am.

Vanya: I have no dispute there.

DD: I don't know whether I should be flattered or annoyed at that.

Vanya: Both

DD: I figured as much.

Vanya: Just finish the disclaimer so they may read the story already.

DD: I do not anything save Vanya and Minuial. Most of the plot is following the books and only a few chapters you will see are completely of my own making.

* * *

Long through the night, both Strider and Shadow sat, alert in their chairs: their eyes gleamed in the light of the fire, which had been tended and was burning brightly; but they made no sign or movement. The wind seemed to be curling round the house and shaking it; and far off a horn blew wildly. When morning came, a cock crowed lustily in the inn-yard. Strider had drawn the curtains and pushed back the shutters with a clang. The first grey light of day was in the room, and a cold air was coming through the open window.

As soon as Strider had roused them all, he led the way to their bedrooms. When they saw them they were glad that they had taken his advice: the windows had been forced open and were swinging, and the curtains were flapping; the beds were tossed about, and the bolsters slashed and flung upon the floor; the brown mat was torn to pieces.

Strider immediately went to fetch the landlord. Poor Mr. Butterbur looked sleepy and frightened. He had hardly closed his eyes all night (so he said), but he had never heard a sound. 'Never has such a thing happened in my time!' he cried, raising his hands in horror. 'Guests unable to sleep in their beds, and good bolsters ruined and all! What are we coming to?'

'Dark times,' said Strider. 'But for the present you may be left in peace, when you have got rid of us. We will leave at once. Never mind about breakfast: a drink and a bite standing will have to do. We shall be packed in a few minutes.'

Mr. Butterbur hurried off to see that their ponies were got ready, and to fetch them a 'bite'. But very soon he came back in dismay. The ponies had vanished! The stable-doors had all been opened in the night, and they were gone: not only Merry's ponies, but every other horse and beast in the place.

Shadow uttered a quiet curse in Elvish. Without the horses, they would not be able to carry as many supplies to Rivendell.

'Ponies would not help us to escape horsemen,' Strider said at last, thoughtfully. 'We should not go much slower on foot, not on the roads that I mean to take. Shadow and I were going to walk in any case. It is the food and stores that trouble me. We cannot count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell, except what we take with us; and we ought to take plenty to spare; for we may be delayed, or forced to go round-about, far out of the direct way. How much are you prepared to carry on your backs?'

'As much as we must,' said Pippin with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was tougher than he looked (or felt).

'I can carry enough for two,' said Sam defiantly.

'Can't anything be done, Mr. Butterbur?' asked Frodo. 'Can't we get a couple of ponies in the village, or even one just for the baggage? I don't suppose we could hire them, but we might be able to buy them,'

'I doubt it,' said the landlord unhappily. 'The two or three riding-ponies that there were in Bree were stabled in my yard, and they're gone. As for other animals, horses or ponies for draught or what not, there are very few of them in Bree, and they won't be for sale. But I'll do what I can. I'll rout out Bob and send him round as soon as may be.'

'Yes,' said Strider reluctantly, 'you had better do that. I am afraid we shall have to try to get one pony at least. But so ends all hope of starting early, and slipping away quietly!'

'We might as well have blown a horn to announce our departure.' Shadow said sullenly. 'That was part of their plan, no doubt.'

In the end there was more than three hours' delay. Bob came back with the report that no horse or pony was to be got for love or money in the neighbourhood - except one: Bill Ferny had one that he might possibly sell.

'A poor old half-starved creature it is,' said Bob; 'but he won't part with it for less than thrice its worth, seeing how you're placed, not if I knows Bill Ferny.'

'Bill Ferny?' said Frodo. 'Isn't there some trick? Wouldn't the beast bolt back to him with all our stuff, or help in tracking us, or something?'

'I wonder,' said Strider. 'But I cannot imagine any animal running home to him, once it got away. I fancy this is only an afterthought of kind Master Ferny's: just a way of increasing his profits from the affair. The chief danger is that the poor beast is probably at death's door. But there does not seem any choice.

'What does he want for it?' Shadow questioned.

Bill Ferny's price was twelve silver pennies; and that was indeed at least three times the pony's value in those pans. It proved to be a bony, underfed, and dispirited animal; but it did not look like dying just yet. Mr. Butterbur paid for it himself, and offered Merry another eighteen pence as some compensation for the lost animals. He was an honest man, and well-off as things were reckoned in Bree; but thirty silver pennies was a sore blow to him, and being cheated by Bill Ferny made it harder to bear.

After their breakfast the hobbits had to re-pack, and get together further supplies for the longer journey they were now expecting. It was close on ten o'clock before they at last got off. By that time the whole of Bree was buzzing with excitement. Frodo's vanishing trick; the appearance of the black horsemen; the robbing of the stables; and not least the news that Strider and Shadow the Rangers had joined the mysterious hobbits, made such a tale as would last for many uneventful years. Most of the inhabitants of Bree and Staddle, and many even from Combe and Archet, were crowded in the road to see the travellers start. The other guests in the inn were at the doors or hanging out of the windows.

Strider and Shadow talked it over and they had decided to leave Bree by the main road. Any attempt to set off across country at once would only make matters worse: half the inhabitants would follow them, to see what they were up to, and to prevent them from trespassing.

They tramped off, anxious and downhearted, under the eyes of the crowd. Not all the faces were friendly, nor all the words that were shouted. But Strider and Shadow seemed to be held in awe by most of the Bree-landers, and those that they stared at shut their mouths and drew away. Strider walked in front with Frodo; next came Merry and Pippin; behind them, Shadow, with Minuial hidden in her cloak; and last came Sam leading the pony, which was laden with as much of their baggage as they had the heart to give it; but already it looked less dejected, as if it approved of the change in its fortunes. Sam was chewing an apple thoughtfully.

The hobbits took no notice of the inquisitive heads that peeped out of doors, or popped over walls and fences, as they passed. But as they drew near to the further gate, Frodo saw a dark ill-kept house behind a thick hedge: the last house in the village. In one of the windows he caught a glimpse of a sallow face with sly, slanting eyes; but it vanished at once.

Over the hedge another man was staring boldly. He had heavy black brows, and dark scornful eyes; his large mouth curled in a sneer. He was smoking a short black pipe. As they approached he took it out of his mouth and spat.

'Morning, Longshanks, Footpad!' he said. 'Off early? Found some friends at last?' Strider nodded, but did not answer. 'Morning, my little friends!' he said to the others. 'I suppose you know who you've taken up with? That's Stick-at-naught Strider, that is! And his little footpad of a friend. Though, I've heard other names not so pretty. Watch out tonight! And you, Sammie, don't go ill-treating my poor old pony! Pah!' He spat again.

With a sudden flick, quick as lightning, an apple left Sam's hand, was drawn back by Shadow, and hit Bill square on the nose. He ducked too late, and curses came from behind the hedge. Shadow grinned with satisfaction.

'Waste of a good apple,' said Sam sullenly, and strode on.

At last they left the village behind. The escort of children and stragglers that had followed them got tired and turned back at the South-gate. Passing through, they kept on along the Road for some miles. It bent to the left, curving back into its eastward line as it rounded the feet of Bree-hill, and then it began to run swiftly downwards into wooded country. To their left they could see some of the houses and hobbit-holes of Staddle on the gentler south-eastern slopes of the hill; down in a deep hollow away north of the Road there were wisps of rising smoke that showed where Combe lay;

After the Road had run down some way, and had left Bree-hill standing tall and brown behind, they came on a narrow track that led off towards the North.

'This is where we leave the open and take to cover,' said Strider.

'Not a "short cut", I hope,' said Pippin. 'Our last short cut through woods nearly ended in disaster.'

'Ah, but you had not had us with you then,' laughed Strider. Our cuts, short or long, don't go wrong.' He took a look up and down the Road. No one was in sight; and he led the way quickly down towards the wooded valley.

* * *

A/N: And I have put up another chapter!

My family and I went out last night to see the movie Tangled (Which I have seen three times without them), and I was the only one who did not cry. Of course, I knew what happened in the movie, but I did not cry the first time I saw it either. So then my father called me heartless, lol.

Don't forget to rate and review!

~ DD


	5. To Weathertop

Disclaimer:

DD: School let out early today, because we are just that awesome.

Vanya: It only let out because your group did not have to be mollycoddled like the one before you.

DD: Which means we are awesome.

Vanya: No, just faster than the first group.

DD: Because we are awesome!

Vanya: No, it has nothing to do with being -

Aragorn: Just agree with her, she is as stubborn as an ass.

DD: I don't know if I should agree with you or be offended...

Aragorn: I would suggest both.

DD: Both it is... but I get mt stubbornness from my father.

Aragorn: I know, the two of you stood in the pouring rain for five minutes trying to get the other to go inside.

DD: I was the one holding the door! He should have gone in!

Aragorn: He was being a gentleman.

DD: I don't need people to pull my chair out for me or hold the door open. I am my own knight in shining armour.

Vanya: Disclaimer?

DD: Right! I own nothing save Vanya and Minuial. Most of the plot is following the books and only a few chapters you will see are completely of my own making.

* * *

Their plan, as far as the hobbits could understand it without knowing the country, was to go towards Archet at first, but to bear right and pass it on the east, and then to steer as straight as he could over the wild lands to Weathertop Hill. In that way they would, if all went well, cut off a great loop of the Road, which further on bent southwards to avoid the Midgewater Marshes. But, of course, they would have to pass through the marshes themselves, and Strider's description of them was not encouraging.

However, in the meanwhile, walking was not unpleasant. Indeed, if it had not been for the disturbing events of the night before, they would have enjoyed this pan of the journey better than any up to that time. The sun was shining, clear but not too hot. The woods in the valley were still leafy and full of colour, and seemed peaceful and wholesome. Strider guided them confidently among the many crossing paths, although left to themselves they would soon have been at a loss. He was taking a wandering course with many turns and doublings, to put off any pursuit.

Whether because of Strider and Shadow's skill or for some other reason, they saw no sign and heard no sound of any other living thing all that day: neither two-footed, except birds; nor four-footed, except one fox and a few squirrels. The next day they began to steer a steady course eastwards; and still all was quiet and peaceful. On the third day out from Bree they came out of the Chetwood. The land had been falling steadily, ever since they turned aside from the Road, and they now entered a wide flat expanse of country, much more difficult to manage. They were far beyond the borders of the Bree-land, out in the pathless wilderness, and drawing near to the Midge-water Marshes.

The ground now became damp, and in places boggy and here and there they came upon pools, and wide stretches of reeds and rushes filled with the warbling of little hidden birds. They had to pick their way carefully to keep both dry-footed and on their proper course. As they went on, their passage became slower and more dangerous. The marshes were bewildering and treacherous, and there was no permanent trail even for Rangers to find through their shifting quagmires. The flies began to torment them, and the air was full of clouds of tiny midges that crept up their sleeves and breeches and into their hair.

'I am being eaten alive!' cried Pippin. 'Midgewater! There are more midges than water!'

'What do they live on when they can't get hobbit?' asked Sam, scratching his neck.

They spent a miserable day in this lonely and unpleasant country. Their camping-place was damp, cold, and uncomfortable; and the biting insects would not let them sleep. The only one of the party who seemed to enjoy having so many insects was Minuial. She was able to eat her fill and then curl up on the pony's back to digest.

There were also abominable creatures haunting the reeds and tussocks that from the sound of them were evil relatives of the cricket. There were thousands of them, and they squeaked all round, neek-breek, breek-neek, unceasingly all the night, until the hobbits were nearly frantic.

The next day, the fourth, was little better, and the night almost as comfortless. Though the Neekerbreekers (as Sam called them) had been left behind, the midges still pursued them. As they lay down to sleep, far away there came a light in the eastern sky: it flashed and faded many times. It was not the dawn, for that was still some hours off.

**'**_**What is the light?**_' Shadow touched Strider's mind.

The two of them had risen to watch and were now gazing ahead into the night.

_**'I do not know**_**,**' Strider answered. _**'It is too distant to make out. It is like lightning that leaps up from the hill-tops.**_**'**

They had not gone far on the fifth day when they left the last straggling pools and reed-beds of the marshes behind them. The land before them began steadily to rise again. Away in the distance eastward they could now see a line of hills. The highest of them was at the right of the line and a little separated from the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit.

'That is Weathertop,' said Strider. 'The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we go straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so.'

'What do you mean?' asked Frodo.

'I mean: when we do get there, it is not certain what we shall find. It is close to the Road.'

'But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?'

'Yes; but the hope is faint. If he comes this way at all, he may not pass through Bree, and so he may not know what we are doing. And anyway, unless by luck we arrive almost together, we shall miss one another; it will not be safe for him or for us to wait there long. If the Riders fail to find us in the wilderness, they are likely to make for Weathertop themselves. It commands a wide view all round. Indeed, there are many birds and beasts in this country that could see us, as we stand here, from that hill-top.

'Not all the birds are to be trusted,' Shadow told them. 'And there are other spies more evil than they are.'

'What do you advise us to do?' asked Frodo.

'I think,' answered Strider slowly, as if he was not quite sure, 'I think the best thing is to go as straight eastward from here as we can, to make for the line of hills, not for Weathertop. There we can strike a path I know that runs at their feet; it will bring us to Weathertop from the north and less openly. Then we shall see what we shall see.'

All that day they plodded along, until the cold and early evening came down. The land became drier and more barren. A few melancholy birds were piping and wailing, until the round red sun sank slowly into the western shadows; then an empty silence fell.

At the day's end they came to a stream that wandered down from the hills to lose itself in the stagnant marshland, and they went up along its banks while the light lasted. It was already night when at last they halted and made their camp under some stunted alder-trees by the shores of the stream. Ahead there loomed now against the dusky sky the bleak and treeless backs of the hills. That night they set a watch, Strider and Shadow, it seemed, did not sleep at all. The moon was waxing, and in the early night-hours a cold grey light lay on the land.

The hills drew nearer. They made an undulating ridge, often rising almost to a thousand feet, and here and there falling again to low clefts or passes leading into the eastern land beyond. Along the crest of the ridge the hobbits could see what looked to be the remains of green-grown walls and dikes, and in the clefts there still stood the ruins of old works of stone. By night they had reached the feet of the westward slopes, and there they camped.

* * *

A/N: This is just getting tiring... we are supposed to be getting MORE snow. It has snowed for nearly seven days in a row! I just hope it does not cause me to miss school again.

Don't forget to rate and Review!

~DD


	6. Songs on the Hill Top

Disclaimer:

DD: I own nothing save Vanya and Minuial. Most of the plot is based off of the books and only a few chapters are completely of my own making.

Vanya: That's it?

DD: I'm tired and I have nothing funny in mind.

Vanya: It's true, there is a first time for everything.

DD: Enjoy the story!

* * *

In the morning they found, for the first time since they had left the Chetwood, a track plain to see. They turned right and followed it southwards. It ran cunningly, taking a line that seemed chosen so as to keep as much hidden as possible from the view, both of the hill-tops above and of the flats to the west. It dived into dells, and hugged steep banks; and where it passed over flatter and more open ground on either side of it there were lines of large boulders and hewn stones that screened the travellers almost like a hedge.

'I wonder who made this path, and what for,' said Merry, as they walked along one of these avenues, where the stones were unusually large and closely set. 'Is there any barrow on Weathertop?'

'No. There is no barrow on Weathertop, nor on any of these hills,' answered Strider.

'The Men of the West did not live here;' Shadow said. 'Though in their latter days they defended the hills for a while against the evil that came out of Angmar. This path was made to serve the forts along the walls. But long before, in the first days of the North Kingdom, they built a great watch-tower on Weathertop, Amon Sûl they called it.'

'It was burned and broken, and nothing remains of it now but a tumbled ring,' Strider continued. 'Like a rough crown on the old hill's head. Yet once it was tall and fair. It is told that Elendil stood there watching for the coming of Gil-galad out of the West, in the days of the Last Alliance.'

The hobbits gazed at Strider and Shadow. It seemed that they were learned in old lore, as well as in the ways of the wild.

'Who was Gil-galad?' asked Merry; but nether Strider nor Shadow answered, they seemed to be lost in thought. Suddenly a low voice murmured:

Gil-galad was an Elven-king.

Of him the harpers sadly sing:

The last whose realm was fair and free

between the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen,

His shining helm afar was seen;

The countless stars of heaven's field

Were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago he rode away,

And where he dwelleth none can say;

For into darkness fell his star

In Mordor where the shadows are.

The others turned in amazement, for the voice was Sam's.

'Don't stop!' said Merry.

'That's all I know,' stammered Sam, blushing. 'I learned it from Mr. Bilbo when I was a lad. He used to tell me tales like that, knowing how I was always one for hearing about Elves. It was Mr. Bilbo as taught me my letters. He was mighty book-learned was dear old Mr. Bilbo. And he wrote poetry. He wrote what I have just said.'

'He did not make it up,' said Strider. 'It is pan of the lay that is called The Fall of Gil-galad, which is in an ancient tongue. Bilbo must have translated it. I never knew that.'

'There was a lot more,' said Sam, 'all about Mordor. I didn't learn that part, it gave me the shivers I never thought I should be going that way myself!'

'Going to Mordor!' cried Pippin. 'I hope it won't come to that!'

'Do not speak that name so loudly!' Shadow hissed.

It was already mid-day when they drew near the southern end of the path, and saw before them, in the pale clear light of the October sun, a grey-green bank, leading up like a bridge on to the northward slope of the hill. They decided to make for the top at once, while the daylight was broad Concealment was no longer possible, and they could only hope that no enemy or spy was observing them. Nothing was to be seen moving on the hill. If Gandalf was anywhere about, there was no sign of him.

On the western flank of Weathertop they found a sheltered hollow, at the bottom of which there was a bowl-shaped dell with grassy sides. There Strider left Shadow with Sam and Pippin and the pony and their packs and luggage. The other three went on.

'_**Have you found anything of use?**_' Shadow asked after a while.

'_**There is a wide ring of ancient stonework.**_' Strider replied. '_**It is now either crumbling or covered with age-long grass.**__**The turf is also burned to the roots and all within the ring the grass is scorched and shrivelled, as if flames have swept the hill-top; but there is no sign of any living thing**_**.**'

'_**It does not appear as if Gandalf has been there?**_'

'_**As of now, I see nothing that would suggest as much.**_'

'_**Tell me if you do find something.**_'

'_**I shall.**_'

Shadow sighed and leaned against a pillar. Sam and Pippin sat and spoke quietly with each other and the ranger was left with her thoughts. Suddenly she felt a small tug at the back of her mind. It was curiosity. Looking down, she saw the small dragon sniffing at the ruins. Shadow smiled. She told the creature what they were standing on. It looked up at Shadow, not really understanding her words, but comforted in the fact that she was speaking to it.

'_**I have found something**__._' Strider said after a minute.

'_**Let me see.**_' Shadow replied.

She felt the acknowledgement and used Strider's eyes. There was a stone on the top of a cairn; it was flatter than the others, and whiter, as if it had escaped the fire. On the flat side there were scratches that seemed to make out runes. There was a stroke, a dot, and three more strokes.

**'**_**The stroke on the left might be a G-rune with thin branches**_**,**' said Strider. **'**_**It might be a sign left by Gandalf, though one cannot be sure. The scratches are fine, and they certainly look fresh.**_'  
'_**But the marks might mean something quite different, and have nothing to do with us. Rangers use runes, and they come here sometimes, do they not?**_' Shadow asked.

Strider agreed

'_**However**__'_ Shadow continued._ '__**If Gandalf **_**did**_** make the scratches, what do you think he meant?**_'

_**'I should say**_ 'answered Strider, '_**they stand for G3, and were a sign that Gandalf was here on October the third: that is three days ago now. It would also show that he was in a hurry and danger was at hand, so that he had no time or did not dare to write anything longer or plainer. If that is so, we must be wary.**_'

'_**Now, as we speak, the light that we saw three nights ago in the eastern sky comes back to my mind.**_' Shadow commented. _ '__**Perhaps he was attacked on this hill-top. He is here no longer, and we must now look after ourselves and make our own way to Rivendell, as best we can.**_'

'_**We have at least a fortnight's journey before us, for I do not think we shall be able to use the Road**__._'

_**'A lot may happen in that time**_**.**'

_**'It may**_**,**'

* * *

A/N: omg! I am watching Animal Planet and this is the cutest little seahorse I have EVER seen! It is called a pygmy Seahorse and it is only about an inch long.

.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/wwwsupiricom_sea-creatures-red_

I'm also eating little s'more's cookies and drinking Gatorade... I'm going to have a strange dream tonight. Probably having something to do with Ninjas. (Yes, I can tell what kind of dream I am going to have in context with the nighttime snack I eat... sad, I know)

Don't forget to Rate and Review!

~ DD


	7. Tales of Exploration

Disclaimer:

DD: I have nothing interesting to say again... so you know the drill, I only own Vanya and Minuial.

Vanya: Twice in a row, I believe this is a new record.

DD: Oh shush

Vanya: You are the author, and thereby, are the one having me say the things I do.

DD: *opens mouth several times like a fish out of water* ... out smarted by my own character...

Vanya: Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Sam and Peregrin had not been idle. They had explored the small dell and the surrounding slopes. Not far away they found a spring of clear water in the hillside, and near it footprints not more than a day or two old. In the dell itself they found recent traces of a fire, and other signs of a hasty camp. There were some fallen rocks on the edge of the dell nearest to the hill. They showed this to Shadow who then called Strider and told him what had been found.

'_**The hobbits had explored it before I was notified, their prints may have disturbed too much of the area.**_' Shadow said. '_**I have not explored it myself, however.**_'

Strider was greatly interested in these discoveries.

'I wish I had waited and explored the ground down here myself,' he said, hurrying off to the spring to examine the footprints.

When he came back he said, 'Sam and Pippin have trampled the soft ground, and the marks are spoilt or confused. Rangers have been here lately. It is they who left the firewood behind. But there are also several newer tracks that were not made by Rangers. At least one set was made, only a day or two ago, by heavy boots. At least one. I cannot now be certain, but I think there were many booted feet.' He paused and stood in anxious thought.

'_**You do not believe it was the black riders, do you?**_' Shadow asked.

'_**I am afraid it was.**_'

If the horsemen had already found the dell, the sooner Strider led them somewhere else the better. Sam viewed the hollow with great dislike, now that he had heard news of their enemies on the Road, only a few miles away.

'Hadn't we better clear out quick, Mr. Strider?' he asked impatiently. 'It is getting late, and I don't like this hole: it makes my heart sink somehow.'

'Yes, we certainly must decide what to do at once,' answered Strider, looking up and considering the time and the weather. 'Well, Sam,' he said at last, 'I do not like this place either; but I cannot think of anywhere better that we could reach before nightfall.'

'At least we are out of sight for the moment,' Shadow said. 'And if we moved we should be much more likely to be seen by spies. All we could do would be to go right out of our way back north on this side of the line of hills, where the land is all much the same as it is here. The Road is watched, but we should have to cross it, if we tried to take cover in the thickets away to the south. On the north side of the Road beyond the hills the country is bare and flat for miles.'

'Can the Riders see?' asked Merry. 'I mean, they seem usually to have used their noses rather than their eyes, smelling for us, if smelling is the right word, at least in the daylight. But you made us lie down flat when you saw them down below; and now you talk of being seen, if we move.'

'_**The riders saw you?**_' Shadow asked.

'I was too careless on the hill-top,' answered Strider. 'I was very anxious to find some sign of Gandalf; but it was a mistake for three of us to go up and stand there so long. For the black horses can see, and the Riders can use men and other creatures as spies, as we found at Bree. They themselves do not see the world of light as we do, but our shapes cast shadows in their minds, which only the noon sun destroys; and in the dark they perceive many signs and forms that are hidden from us: then they are most to be feared. And at all times they smell the blood of living things, desiring and hating it. Senses, too, there are other than sight or smell. We can feel their presence - it troubled our hearts, as soon as we came here, and before we saw them; they feel ours more keenly. Also,' he added, and his voice sank to a whisper, 'the Ring draws them.'

'Is there no escape then?' said Frodo, looking round wildly. 'If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!'

Strider laid his hand on his shoulder.

'There is still hope,' he said. 'You are not alone. Let us take this wood that is set ready for the fire as a sign. There is little shelter or defence here, but fire shall serve for both. Sauron can put fire to his evil uses, as he can all things, but these Riders do not love it, and fear those who wield it. Fire is our friend in the wilderness.'

'Maybe,' muttered Sam. 'It is also as good a way of saying "here we are" as I can think of, bar shouting.'

Down in the lowest and most sheltered corner of the dell they lit a fire, and prepared a meal. The shades of evening began to fall, and it grew cold. They were suddenly aware of great hunger, for they had not eaten anything since breakfast; but they dared not make more than a frugal supper. The lands ahead were empty of all save birds and beasts, unfriendly places deserted by all the races of the world.

Rangers passed at times beyond the hills, but they were few and did not stay. Other wanderers were rare, and of evil sort. Only on the Road would travellers be found, most often dwarves, hurrying along on business of their own, and with no help and few words to spare for strangers.

'I don't see how our food can be made to last,' said Frodo. 'We have been careful enough in the last few days, and this supper is no feast; but we have used more than we ought, if we have two weeks still to go, and perhaps more.'

'There is food in the wild,' said Strider; 'berry, root, and herb; and Vanya has skill as a hunter at need. You need not be afraid of starving before winter comes. But gathering and catching food is long and weary work, and we need haste. So tighten your belts, and think with hope of the tables of Elrond's house!'

The cold increased as darkness came on. Peering out from the edge of the dell they could see nothing but a grey land now vanishing quickly into shadow. The sky above had cleared again and was slowly filled with twinkling stars. Frodo and the other hobbits huddled round the fire, wrapped in every garment and blanket they possessed; but Strider and Shadow were content with a single cloak. They sat a little apart from the others, Strider drawing thoughtfully at his pipe.

As night fell and the light of the fire began to shine out brightly the two Rangers began to tell them tales to keep their minds from fear. They knew many histories and legends of long ago, of Elves and Men and the good and evil deeds of the Elder Days. The hobbits wondered how old they were, and where they had learned all this lore.

'Tell us of Gil-galad,' said Merry suddenly, when he paused at the end of a story of the Elf-Kingdoms. 'Do you know any more of that old lay that you spoke of?'

'I do indeed,' answered Strider. 'So also does Frodo, for it concerns us closely.'

Merry and Pippin looked at Frodo, who was staring into the fire.

'I know only the little that Gandalf has told me,' said Frodo slowly. 'Gil-galad was the last of the great Elf-kings of Middle-earth. Gil-galad is Starlight in their tongue. With Elendil, the Elf-friend, he went to the land of-'

'No!' said Strider interrupting, 'I do not think that tale should be told now with the servants of the Enemy at hand. If we win through to the house of Elrond, you may hear it there, told in full.'

'Then tell us some other tale of the old days,' begged Sam; 'a tale about the Elves before the fading time. I would dearly like to hear more about Elves; the dark seems to press round so close.'

'I will tell you the tale of Tinúviel,' said Strider, 'in brief - for it is a long tale of which the end is not known; and there are none now, except Elrond, that remember it aright as it was told of old. It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all the tales of Middle-earth, and yet it may lift up your hearts.' He was silent for some time, and then he began not to speak but to chant softly:

The leaves were long, the grass was green,

The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,

And in the glade a light was seen

Of stars in shadow shimmering.

Tinúviel was dancing there

To music of a pipe unseen,

And light of stars was in her hair,

And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,

And lost he wandered under leaves,

And where the Elven-river rolled

He walked alone and sorrowing.

He peered between the hemlock-leaves

And saw in wander flowers of gold

Upon her mantle and her sleeves,

And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet

That over hills were doomed to roam;

And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,

And grasped at moonbeams glistening.

Through woven woods in Elvenhome

She tightly fled on dancing feet,

And left him lonely still to roam

In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound

Of feet as light as linden-leaves,

Or music welling underground,

In hidden hollows quavering.

Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,

And one by one with sighing sound

Whispering fell the beechen leaves

In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far

Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,

By light of moon and ray of star

In frosty heavens shivering.

Her mantle glinted in the moon,

As on a hill-top high and far

She danced, and at her feet was strewn

A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed, she came again,

And her song released the sudden spring,

Like rising lark, and falling rain,

And melting water bubbling.

He saw the elven-flowers spring

About her feet, and healed again

He longed by her to dance and sing

Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.

Tinúviel! Tinúviel!

He called her by her elvish name;

And there she halted listening.

One moment stood she, and a spell

His voice laid on her: Beren came,

And doom fell on Tinúviel

That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes

Within the shadows of her hair,

The trembling starlight of the skies

He saw there mirrored shimmering.

Tinúviel the elven-fair,

Immortal maiden elven-wise,

About him cast her shadowy hair

And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,

O'er stony mountains cold and grey,

Through halls of iron and darkling door,

And woods of nightshade morrowless.

The Sundering Seas between them lay,

And yet at last they met once more,

And long ago they passed away

In the forest singing sorrowless.

Strider sighed and paused before he spoke again.

'That is a song,' he said, 'in the mode that is called ann-thennath among the Elves, but is hard to render in our Common Speech, and this is but a rough echo of it. It tells of the meeting of Beren son of Barahir and Lúthien Tinúviel. Beren was a mortal man, but Lúthien was the daughter of Thingol, a King of Elves upon Middle-earth when the world was young; and she was the fairest maiden that has ever been among all the children of this world. As the stars above the mists of the Northern lands was her loveliness, and in her face was a shining light. In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North, and the Elves of the West coming back to Middle-earth made war upon him to regain the Silmarils which he had stolen; and the fathers of Men aided the Elves. But the Enemy was victorious and Barahir was slain, and Beren escaping through great peril came over the Mountains of Terror into the hidden Kingdom of Thingol in the forest of Neldoreth. There he beheld Lúthien singing and dancing in a glade beside the enchanted river Esgalduin; and he named her Tinúviel, that is Nightingale in the language of old. Many sorrows befell them afterwards, and they were parted long. Tinúviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron, and together they passed through great dangers, and cast down even the Great Enemy from his throne, and took from his iron crown one of the three Silmarils, brightest of all jewels, to be the bride-price of Lúthien to Thingol her father.'

'Yet at the last Beren was slain by the Wolf that came from the gates of Angband, and he died in the arms of Tinúviel.' Shadow continued. 'But she chose mortality, and to die from the world, so that she might follow him; and it is sung that they met again beyond the Sundering Seas, and after a brief time walking alive once more in the green woods, together they passed, long ago, beyond the confines of this world. So it is that Lúthien Tinúviel alone of the Elf-kindred has died indeed and left the world, and they have lost her whom they most loved. But from her the lineage of the Elf-lords of old descended among Men. There live still those of whom Lúthien was the foremother, and it is said that her line shall never fail. Elrond of Rivendell is of that Kin. For of Beren and Lúthien was born Dior Thingol's heir; and of him Elwing the White whom Eärendil wedded, he that sailed his ship out of the mists of the world into the seas of heaven with the Silmaril upon his brow. And of Eärendil came the Kings of Númenor, that is Westernesse.'

* * *

A/N: That was a long chapter, mostly because of the song.

I am watching a show called 'Beyond scared straight'. It is about how children between 12 and 20 who are on the way to becoming criminals are sent to prison to see what life is like behind bars. It is a scary place, nothing like what you see on the television.


	8. Last Stand in the Broken Crown

Disclaimer:

DD: I'm finally done being sick! There was all this horrible crud going around and I got it. It was the first time I had been that badly sick in about five years. My fever broke at 103 degrees F (about 40 degrees C).

Vanya: You jerk... you got me sick too

DD: Sorry, not my fault really.

Vanya: I need someone to blame, I choose you.

DD: I'm not a Pokemon! Why don't you just blame the bacteria?

Vanya: I'm too tired to argue with you.

DD: I finally get to win an argument with you.

Vanya: The fact that you were loosing them in the first place is sad because you were essentially arguing with yourself.

DD: Dang it...

Vanya: Do the disclaimer already

DD: I only own Vanya and Minuial.

* * *

After Strider and Shadow finished their tale, the hobbits moved and stretched. The night was wearing on. Over the hill top the moon could be seen rising.

'Look!' said Merry. 'The Moon is rising: it must be getting late.'

The others looked up. Even as they did so, they saw on the top of the hill something small and dark against the glimmer of the moonrise. It was perhaps only a large stone or jutting rock shown up by the pale light.

Sam and Merry got up and walked away from the fire. Frodo and Pippin remained seated in silence. Strider and Shadow were watching the moonlight on the hill intently.

'_**Aragorn, I do not like this.**__'_ Shadow said.

'_**Neither do I, but we must wait and see.**__'_ He replied.

Minuial crawled over to Shadow and curled up. All seemed quiet and still, but a cold dread creeping over, now that Strider and Shadow were no longer speaking. At that moment Sam came running back from the edge of the dell.

'I don't know what it is,' he said, 'but I suddenly felt afraid. I durstn't go outside this dell for any money; I felt that something was creeping up the slope.'

'Did you see anything?' asked Frodo, springing to his feet.

'No, sir. I saw nothing, but I didn't stop to look.'

'I saw something,' said Merry; 'or I thought I did - away westwards where the moonlight was falling on the flats beyond the shadow of the hill-tops, I thought there were two or three black shapes. They seemed to be moving this way.'

'Keep close to the fire, with your faces outward!' cried Strider. 'Get some of the longer sticks ready in your hands!'

For a breathless time they sat there, silent and alert, with their backs turned to the wood-fire, each gazing into the shadows that encircled them. Nothing happened. There was no sound or movement in the night.

'Hush!' whispered Strider.

'What's that?' gasped Pippin at the same moment.

Over the lip of the little dell, on the side away from the hill, they felt, rather than saw, a shadow rise, one shadow or more than one. They strained their eyes, and the shadows seemed to grow. Soon there could be no doubt: three or four tall black figures were standing there on the slope, looking down on them. So black were they that they seemed like black holes in the deep shade behind them. A faint hiss as of venomous breath leaked out and a thin piercing chill covered them all. Then the shapes slowly advanced. Shadow hid Minuial in the opening of a rock and stood next to Strider. She was shaking heavily, and her eyes were turning yellow. (A/N: remember, when she _willingly_ changes her eyes turn golden, when something makes her change they turn yellow)

'_**Aragorn, I cannot stop it.**__'_ She cried, frightened. _'__**It is not within my control.**__'_

'_**Vanya, look at me.**__'_ Strider replied, holding his daughter's head in his hands. '_**All you need to do is know who the enemy is. Nothing more.**__' _

Shadow nodded, then turned back to the wraiths, and allowed herself to shift. As soon as she had, Shadow noticed something was wrong. She could only sense three hobbits. A few moments later, Sam noticed that Frodo was gone. Then Shadow saw one of the ring wraiths lunged out with his sword. A distant cry was heard. Strider retrieved two long branches of wood and caught the tips on fire. He leapt out of the darkness with the flaming brands of wood in either hand. Shadow leapt after him, teeth bared, and cried out to the moon. The wraiths quickly fled, leaving no sign they had ever been there.

Strider and the hobbits searched for Frodo, Shadow and Minuial stood outside of the dell searching for any sign of the black riders. After a few moments, Frodo was found. However he appeared to be dead, with his sword lying beneath him. Strider told the hobbits to lay him near the fire and keep him warm. Then Strider and Shadow disappeared.

It was several minutes before Shadow resumed her normal form.

'**They seem to have vanished without trace.**' Shadow stated as she stooped to the ground.

Strider nodded. There was no feeling of them anywhere near Weathertop. They and their steeds were gone.

'**They have left for now; however, I wonder why they left, and when they shall return.**' Strider replied.

'**Also, why were there only five of them? Where is the rest of their company?**' Shadow asked.

'**I do not know.**' Strider said. '**We should finish quickly. I do not like leaving the hobbits alone, even if the wraiths are gone.**'

Shadow nodded and the pair returned to the dell they had left the hobbits in. When they arrived, they saw that Sam was beginning to have doubts again about them. The hobbits started when the Rangers returned, and Sam drew his sword and stood over Frodo; but Strider knelt down swiftly at his side.

'I am not a Black Rider, Sam,' he said gently, 'nor in league with them. We have been trying to discover something of their movements; but we have found nothing. I cannot think why they have gone and do not attack again. But there is no feeling of their presence anywhere at hand.'

Frodo awoke and told them of his encounter with the wraiths, the company became full of concern, and Strider shook his head and sighed. Then he ordered Pippin and Merry to heat as much water as they could in their small kettles, and to bathe the wound with it.

'Keep the fire going well, and keep Frodo warm!' he said. Then he got up and walked away, and called Sam to him. Shadow followed.

'You must trust us now, Sam.' Strider said. 'Your Frodo is made of sterner stuff than I had guessed, though Gandalf hinted that it might prove so. He is not slain, and I think he will resist the evil power of the wound longer than his enemies expect. I will do all I can to help and heal him. Guard him well, while we are away!'

They hurried off and disappeared again into the darkness.

Strider and Shadow traveled swiftly, but what they were searching for lay a long way off. Shadow left Minuial in the dell with the hobbits. Dawn was growing in the sky, and the dell was filling with grey light, when Strider and Shadow at last returned.

'Look!' Strider cried; stooping, he lifted from the ground a black cloak that had lain there hidden by the darkness. A foot above the lower hem there was a slash.

'This was the stroke of Frodo's sword,' he said. 'The only hurt that it did to his enemy, I fear; for it is unharmed, but all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King. More deadly to him was the name of Elbereth.'

'And more deadly to Frodo was this!' Shadow called.

She bent and lifted up a long thin knife. There was a cold gleam in it. Shadow handed it to her father. As Strider raised it they saw that near the end its edge was notched and the point was broken off. But even as he held it up in the growing light, they gazed in astonishment, for the blade seemed to melt, and vanished like a smoke in the air, leaving only the hilt in Strider's hand.

'Alas!' he cried. 'It was this accursed knife that gave the wound. Few now have the skill in healing to match such evil weapons. But I will do what I can.'

He turned to Frodo and in a soft tone spoke words the others could not catch. From the pouch at his belt he drew out the long leaves of a plant.

'These leaves,' he said, 'we have walked far to find; for this plant does not grow in the bare hills; but in the thickets away south of the Road we found it in the dark by the scent of its leaves.'

He crushed a leaf in his fingers, and it gave out a sweet and pungent fragrance.

'It is fortunate that we could find it, for it is a healing plant that the Men of the West brought to Middle-earth. Athelas they named it, and it grows now sparsely and only near places where they dwelt or camped of old; and it is not known in the North, except to some of those who wander in the Wild. It has great virtues, but over such a wound as this its healing powers may be small.'

He threw the leaves into boiling water and bathed Frodo's shoulder. The fragrance of the steam was refreshing, and those that were unhurt felt their minds calmed and cleared. Then they were discussed Frodo's wound and when they should head on their way again. They quickly decided to leave Weathertop as soon as possible.

'I think now,' said Strider, 'that the enemy has been watching this place for some days. If Gandalf ever came here, then he must have been forced to ride away, and he will not return. In any case we are in great peril here after dark, since the attack of last night, and we can hardly meet greater danger wherever we go.'

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another chapter is up!

So, I seem to be the unofficial group leader of my table in my college Bio lab... even though I am the youngest one there (and still in high school). We will be doing an experiment, and all three of the others will come up with a reading, but they will watch me like hawks and wait for what I say. If I agree they all write down the number (or whatever it is we need to right down), but if I disagree, they all write down the number I say it should be, no questions asked. It makes me feel kinda special. :)


	9. To Rivendell

Disclaimer:

DD: (Is curled up in the corner).

Vanya: What is wrong?

DD: *mumbles* nothing...

Vanya: Obviously something is.

DD: Just family stuff... it'll get sorted out.

Vanya: Shall I do the disclaimer?

DD: No, I'll do it... I own nothing save Vanya, Minuial, and my story.

* * *

As soon as the daylight was full, they had some hurried food and packed. It was impossible for Frodo to walk, so they divided the greater part of their baggage among the four of them, and put Frodo on the pony. In the last few days the poor beast had improved wonderfully; it already seemed fatter and stronger, and had begun to show an affection for its new masters, especially for Sam. Bill Ferny's treatment must have been very hard for the journey in the wild to seem so much better than its former life.

They started off in a southerly direction. This would mean crossing the Road, but it was the quickest way to more wooded country. And they needed fuel; for Strider said that Frodo must be kept warm, especially at night, while fire would be some protection for them all. It was also his plan to shorten their journey by cutting across another great loop of the Road: east beyond Weathertop it changed its course and took a wide bend northwards.

They made their way slowly and cautiously round the south-western slopes of the hill, and came in a little while to the edge of the Road. There was no sign of the Riders. But even as they were hurrying across they heard far away two cries: a cold voice calling and a cold voice answering. They sprang forward, and made for the thickets that lay ahead. The land before them sloped away southwards, but it was wild and pathless; bushes and stunted trees grew in dense patches with wide barren spaces in between.

The grass was scanty, coarse, and grey; and the leaves in the thickets were faded and falling. It was a cheerless land, and their journey was slow and gloomy. They spoke little as they trudged along. They walked with their heads down, and their backs bowed under their burdens. Even Strider and Shadow seemed tired and heavy-hearted. Only Minuial seemed unburdened by the journey.

Four days passed, without the ground or the scene changing much, except that behind them Weathertop slowly sank, and before them the distant mountains loomed a little nearer. They had seen and heard no sign that the enemy had marked their flight or followed them. They dreaded the dark hours, and kept watch in pairs by night, expecting at any time to see black shapes stalking in the grey night, dimly lit by the cloud-veiled moon; but they saw nothing, and heard no sound but the sigh of withered leaves and grass. Not once did they feel the sense of present evil that had assailed them before the attack in the dell. It seemed too much to hope that the Riders had already lost their trail again. Perhaps they were waiting to make some ambush in a narrow place?

At the end of the fifth day the ground began once more to rise slowly out of the wide shallow valley into which they had descended. Strider now turned their course again north-eastwards, and on the sixth day they reached the top of a long slow-climbing slope, and saw far ahead a huddle of wooded hills. Away below them they could see the Road sweeping round the feet of the hills; and to their right a grey river gleamed pale in the thin sunshine. In the distance they glimpsed yet another river in a stony valley half-veiled in mist.

"I am afraid we must go back to the Road here for a while,' said Strider. 'We have now come to the River Hoarwell. It flows down out of the Ettenmoors, the troll-fells north of Rivendell, and joins the Loudwater away in the South. There is no way over it below its sources in the Ettenmoors, except by the Last Bridge on which the Road crosses.'

'What is that other river we can see far away there?' asked Merry.

'That is Loudwater, the Bruinen of Rivendell,' answered Shadow. 'The Road runs along the edge of the hills for many miles from the Bridge to the Ford of Bruinen. But Strider ans I have not yet thought how we shall cross that water. One river at a time! We shall be fortunate indeed if we do not find the Last Bridge held against us.'

Next day, early in the morning, they came down again to the borders of the Road. Shadow and Strider went forward, but they found no sign of any travellers or riders. Here under the shadow of the hills there had been some rain. Strider judged that it had fallen two days before, and had washed away all footprints. No horseman had passed since then, as far as he could see.

They hurried along with all the speed they could make, and after a mile or two they saw the Last Bridge ahead, at the bottom of a short steep slope. They dreaded to see black figures waiting there, but they saw none. Strider made them take cover in a thicket at the side of the Road, while he went forward to explore.

Before long he came hurrying back.

'I can see no sign of the enemy,' he said, 'but I have found something very strange.'

He held out his hand, and showed a single pale-green jewel.

'I found it in the mud in the middle of the Bridge,' he said.

'It is a beryl, an elf-stone." Shadow exclaimed.

Strider nodded

'Whether it was set there, or let fall by chance, I cannot say;' He went on. 'But it brings hope to me. I will take it as a sign that we may pass the Bridge; but beyond that I dare not keep to the Road, without some clearer token.'

At once they went on again. They crossed the Bridge in safety, hearing no sound but the water swirling against its three great arches. A mile further on they came to a narrow ravine that led away northwards through the steep lands on the left of the Road. Here Strider turned aside, and soon they were lost in a sombre country of dark trees winding among the feet of sullen hills.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was shorter than I expected... but this was the best place I could stop without making it go on forever. Yeah, that's about all I have to say because my life is not very interesting right now... Rate and Review please!

~DD


	10. Losing Hope

Disclaimer:

DD: *glaring at corner*

Vanya: What are you doing?

DD: Riding a flying hippo, what does it look like?

Vanya: Don't get snippy. Why do you seem to be trying to drill holes into the wall with your eyes?

DD: I'm mad...

Vanya: I gathered.

DD: *grumbles incomprehensibly*

Vanya: What did you say?

Ghost King: She despises her asthma with the fiery passion that rivals ten thousand stars going supernova.

Vanya: Oh... why are you here?

Ghost King: She called me here because she needed someone to stab without killing... and the monkey is missing.

DD: Stupid Jack... why can't he be around when I need him? He's fun to shoot.

Ghost King: That may be why he is not around... because you try to shoot him so often.

DD: Oh shut up, I'm not in the mood.

Vanya: Eat chocolate, it'll help.

DD: You need to stop hanging around with Lupin so much.

Vanya: Just do the disclaimer, this is getting long and tedious...

DD: I don't own it... enjoy.

* * *

They were glad to be going again, but the new country seemed threatening and unfriendly. As they went forward the hills about them steadily rose. Here and there upon heights and ridges they caught glimpses of ancient walls of stone, and the ruins of towers: they had an ominous look.

'Who lives in this land?' Frodo asked. 'And who built these towers? Is this troll-country?'

'No!' said Strider. 'Trolls do not build. No one lives in this land. Men once dwelt here, ages ago; but none remain now.'

'They became an evil people, as legends tell,' Shadow said. 'They fell under the shadow of Angmar. But all were destroyed in the war that brought the North Kingdom to its end. But that is now so long ago that the hills have forgotten them, though a shadow still lies on the land.'

'Where did you learn such tales, if all the land is empty and forgetful?' asked Pippin. 'The birds and beasts do not tell tales of that son.'

'The heirs of Elendil do not forget all things past,' said Strider; 'and many more things than I can tell are remembered in Rivendell.'

'Have you often been to Rivendell?' said Frodo.

'We have,' said Strider. 'We dwelt there once, and still we return when we may.'

The hills now began to shut them in. The Road behind held on its way to the River Bruinen, but both were now hidden from view. The travellers came into a long valley; narrow, deeply cloven, dark and silent. Trees with old and twisted roots hung over cliffs, and piled up behind into mounting slopes of pine-wood.

The hobbits grew very weary. They advanced slowly, for they had to pick their way through a pathless country, encumbered by fallen trees and tumbled rocks. As long as they could they avoided climbing for Frodo's sake, and because it was in fact difficult to find any way up out of the narrow dales. They had been two days in this country when the weather turned wet. The wind began to blow steadily out of the West and pour the water of the distant seas on the dark heads of the hills in fine drenching rain. By nightfall they were all soaked, and their camp was cheerless, for they could not get any fire to burn.

The next day the hills rose still higher and steeper before them, and they were forced to turn away northwards out of their course. Strider and Shadow were getting anxious: they were nearly ten days out from Weathertop, and their stock of provisions was beginning to run low. With the threat of spies, Shadow could not risk changing to hunt, and she had no arrows with her. Minuial had doubled in size and was now flying for much of the distances they covered, but she could not go out and hunt for the group either as she was not big enough.

That night they camped on a stony shelf with a rock-wall behind them, in which there was a shallow cave, a mere scoop in the cliff. Strider sitting hunched up, smoking his pipe, Shadow sat next to him, watching.

In the morning he woke to find that the rain had stopped. The clouds were still thick, but they were breaking, and pale strips of blue appeared between them. The wind was shifting again. They did not start early. Immediately after their cold and comfortless breakfast Strider went off alone, telling the others to remain under the shelter of the cliff, until he came back. He was going to climb up, if he could, and get a look at the lie of the land. When he returned he was not reassuring.

'We have come too far to the north,' he said, 'and we must find some way to turn back southwards again. If we keep on as we are going we shall get up into the Ettendales far north of Rivendell. That is troll-country, and little known to either I or Shadow.'

'We could perhaps find our way through and come round to Rivendell from the north.' Shadow suggested.

'But it would take too long,' Strider replied. 'For we do not know the way, and our food would not last. So somehow or other we must find the Ford of Bruinen.'

'Why couldn't Shadow go out and hunt?' Pippin asked.

'I cannot risk shifting while we are confronted with the threat of spies.' Shadow answered. 'And I have no arrows with me to hunt the normal way.'

The rest of that day they spent scrambling over rocky ground. They found a passage between two hills that led them into a valley running south-east, the direction that they wished to take; but towards the end of the day they found their road again barred by a ridge of high land; its dark edge against the sky was broken into many bare points like teeth of a blunted saw. They had a choice between going back or climbing over it.

Minuial flew up to the top, while the rest of the company attempted the climb. It proved very difficult. Before long Frodo was obliged to dismount and struggle along on foot. Even so they often despaired of getting their pony up, or indeed of finding a path for themselves, burdened as they were. The light was nearly gone, and they were all exhausted, when at last they reached the top. They had climbed on to a narrow saddle between two higher points, and the land fell steeply away again, only a short distance ahead. Frodo threw himself down, and lay on the ground shivering.

'We cannot go any further,' said Merry. 'I am afraid this has been too much for Frodo. I am dreadfully anxious about him. What are we to do? Do you think they will be able to cure him in Rivendell, if we ever get there?'

'We shall see,' answered Strider. 'There is nothing more that we can do in the wilderness; and it is chiefly because of his wound that I am so anxious to press on. But I agree that we can go no further tonight.'

'What is the matter with my master?' asked Sam in a low voice, looking appealingly at Strider and Shadow. 'His wound was small, and it is already closed. There's nothing to be seen but a cold white mark on his shoulder.'

'Frodo has been touched by the weapons of the Enemy,' said Strider, 'and there is some poison or evil at work that is beyond our skill to drive out.'

'But do not give up hope, Sam!' Said Shadow; laying a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

A/N: well... the good news is I ran half a mileish! Bad news is that my asthma decided to hate me even more today and I had two attacks within three minutes of each other... and I could not physically breath in.

My bio 101 lecture professor SUCKS! She covers four or so chapters then give us a test on it, she never does a review an just expects us to remember everything from four weeks ago, and she NEVER tells us what specific things we should study. She just says "I don't know, I haven't made up the test yet." She makes up the test the night before she hand it out. And she sucks at grading because she is using a scantron sheet, so the computer screws everything up (it has happened for both tests). She sucks at teaching too, so the entire class average is just barely a "C"... so if you haven't guessed yet, my professor sucks... Sorry for my unimportant (and unrelated) rant. I'll try to get a chapter up in the next few days.

Rate and review please!

~DD


	11. Trolls in the Light

Disclaimer:

DD: Last night I started considering becoming a vegetarian...

Vanya: Why?

DD: Because it is a healthier lifestyle.

Vanya: What did you decide?

DD: That I would miss meat too much, so I just decided to eat less meat and more veggies (and fruits), but still eat meat!

Vanya: Mhm... are you going to do the disclaimer?

DD: Don't own it! Enjoy!

* * *

Night was cold up on the high ridge. They lit a small fire down under the gnarled roots of an old pine, that hung over a shallow pit: it looked as if stone had once been quarried there. They sat huddled together. Minuial curled up in Vanya's lap and watched the flames crackle and flicker. The wind blew chill through the pass, and they heard the tree-tops lower down moaning and sighing.

The morning dawned bright and fair; the air was clean, and the light pale and clear in a rain-washed sky. Their hearts were encouraged, but they longed for the sun to warm their cold stiff limbs. As soon as it was light, Strider took Merry with him and went to survey the country from the height to the east of the pass, Shadow stayed behind to keep an eye on Frodo. The sun had risen and was shining brightly when he returned with more comforting news.

They were now going more or less in the right direction. If they went on, down the further side of the ridge, they would have the Mountains on their left. Some way ahead Strider had caught a glimpse of the Loudwater again, and he knew that, though it was hidden from view, the Road to the Ford was not far from the River and lay on the side nearest to them.

'We must make for the Road again,' he said. 'We cannot hope to find a path through these hills.'

Shadow nodded.

'Whatever danger may beset it, the Road is our only way to the Ford.' She said.

As soon as they had eaten they set out again. They climbed slowly down the southern side of the ridge; but the way was much easier than they had expected, for the slope was far less steep on this side, and before long Frodo was able to ride again. Bill Ferny's poor old pony was developing an unexpected talent for picking out a path, and for sparing its rider as many jolts as possible. The spirits of the party rose again.

Pippin was a little ahead of the others. Suddenly he turned round and called to them. 'There is a path here!' he cried.

When they came up with him, they saw that he had made no mistake: there were clearly the beginnings of a path, which climbed with many windings out of the woods below and faded away on the hill-top behind. In places it was now faint and overgrown, or choked with fallen stones and trees; but at one time it seemed to have been much used. It was a path made by strong arms and heavy feet. Here and there old trees had been cut or broken down, and large rocks cloven or heaved aside to make a way.

They followed the track for some while, for it offered much the easiest way down, but they went cautiously, and their anxiety increased as they came into the dark woods, and the path grew plainer and broader. Suddenly coming out of a belt of fir-trees it ran steeply down a slope, and turned sharply to the left round the comer of a rocky shoulder of the hill. When they came to the comer they looked round and saw that the path ran on over a level strip under the face of a low cliff overhung with trees. In the stony wall there was a door hanging crookedly ajar upon one great hinge.

Outside the door they all halted. There was a cave or rock-chamber behind, but in the gloom inside nothing could be seen. Strider, Shadow, and Merry pushing with all their strength managed to open the door a little wider, and then Strider and Merry went in. They did not go far, for on the floor lay many old bones, and nothing else was to be seen near the entrance except some great empty jars and broken pots. Minuial sniffed at the bones, but she found none of them appealing for they were all too old.

'Surely this is a troll-hole, if ever there was one!' said Pippin. 'Come out, you two, and let us get away. Now we know who made the path -and we had better get off it quick.'

'There is no need, I think,' said Strider, coining out. 'It is certainly a troll-hole, but it seems to have been long forsaken. I don't think we need be afraid. But let us go on down warily, and we shall see.'

The path went on again from the door, and turning to the right again across the level space plunged down a thick wooded slope. Pippin, not liking to show Shadow that he was still afraid, went on ahead with Merry. Sam and Strider came behind, one on each side of Frodo's pony, for the path was now broad enough for four or five hobbits to walk abreast, and Shadow walked behind with Minuial next to her. But they had not gone very far before Pippin came running back, followed by Merry. They both looked terrified.

'There are trolls!' Pippin panted. 'Down in a clearing in the woods not far below. We got a sight of them through the tree-trunks. They are very large!'

'We will come and look at them,' said Strider, picking up a stick. Shadow grinned and reassured Minuial, who had no knowledge of trolls. Frodo said nothing, but Sam looked scared.

The sun was now high, and it shone down through the half-stripped branches of the trees, and lit the clearing with bright patches of light. They halted suddenly on the edge, and peered through the tree-trunks, holding their breath. There stood the trolls: three large trolls. One was stooping, and the other two stood staring at him. Minuial sniffed the air, nervous.

'_Are you sure it is safe?'_ She asked.

'_Yes, just watch.'_ Shadow replied.

Strider walked forward unconcernedly.

'Get up, old stone!' he said, and broke his stick upon the stooping troll.

Nothing happened. Minuial flicked her ears, then a rumbling laugh came from her chest. Shadow smiled and walked out to join her father. There was a gasp of astonishment from the hobbits, and then even Frodo laughed.

'Well!' he said. 'We are forgetting our family history! These must be the very three that were caught by Gandalf, quarrelling over the right way to cook thirteen dwarves and one hobbit.'

'I had no idea we were anywhere near the place!' said Pippin.

'You are forgetting not only your family history, but all you ever knew about trolls,' said Strider.

'It is broad daylight with a bright sun.' Shadow said. 'Yet you come back trying to scare us with a tale of live trolls waiting for us in this glade!'

'In any case you might have noticed that one of them has an old bird's nest behind his ear.' Strider continued. 'That would be a most unusual ornament for a live troll!'

They all laughed. The reminder of Bilbo's first successful adventure was heartening. The sun, too, was warm and comforting. They rested for some time in the glade, and took their mid-day meal right under the shadow of the trolls' large legs.

* * *

A/N: It's so nice outside, I want to go for a bike ride... my mother has just decided for me, I'm going for a bike ride! later ya'll!

Rate and review please!

~ DD


	12. Rider of the Elven Horse

Disclaimer:

DD: I'm getting a dog!

Vanya: In two years...

DD: But dad still said I could get one!

Vanya: In two years...

DD: Because I won't be in school in two years, and I will actually have time for a dog. So I'm getting a dog!

Vanya:... In. Two. Years.

DD: *sigh* Yes... in two years.

Vanya: DD doesn't own LotR.

* * *

'Won't somebody give us a bit of a song, while the sun is high?' said Merry, when they had finished. 'We haven't had a song or a tale for days.'

'Not since Weathertop,' said Frodo. The others looked at him. 'Don't worry about me!' he added. 'I feel much better, but I don't think I could sing. Perhaps Sam could dig something out of his memory.'

'Come on, Sam!' said Merry. 'There's more stored in your head than you let on about.'

'I don't know about that,' said Sam. 'But how would this suit? It ain't what I call proper poetry, if you understand me: just a bit of nonsense. But these old images here brought it to my mind.' Standing up, with his hands behind his back, as if he was at school, he began to sing to an old tune.

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,

And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;

For many a year he had gnawed it near,

For meat was hard to come by.

Done by! Gum by!

In a case in the hills he dwelt alone,

And meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on.

Said he to Troll: 'Pray, what is yon?

For it looks like the shin o' my nuncle Tim,

As should be a-lyin' in graveyard.

Caveyard! Paveyard!

This many a year has Tim been gone,

And I thought he were lyin' in graveyard.'

'My lad,' said Troll, 'this bone I stole.

But what be bones that lie in a hole?

Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead,

Afore I found his shinbone.

Tinbone! Thinbone!

He can spare a share for a poor old troll,

For he don't need his shinbone.'

Said Tom: 'I don't see why the likes o' thee

Without axin' leave should go makin' free

With the shank or the shin o' my father's kin;

So hand the old bone over!

Rover! Trover!

Though dead he be, it belongs to he;

So hand the old bone over!'

'For a couple o' pins,' says Troll, and grins,

'I'll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.

A bit o' fresh meal will go down sweet!

I'll try my teeth on thee now.

Hee now! See now!

I'm tired o' gnawing old bones and skins;

I've a mind to dine on thee now.'

But just as he thought his dinner was caught,

He found his hands had hold of naught.

Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind

And gave him the boot to larn him.

Warn him! Darn him!

A bump o' the boot on the seat, Tom thought,

Would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone

Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.

As well set your boot to the mountain's root,

For the seat of a troll don't feel it.

Peel it! Heal it!

Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan,

And he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom's leg is game, since home he came,

And his bootless foot is lasting lame;

But Troll don't care, and he's still there

With the bone he boned from its owner.

Doner! Boner!

Troll's old seat is still the same,

And the bone he boned from its owner!

'Well, that's a warning to us all!' laughed Merry. 'It is as well you used a stick, and not your hand, Strider!'

'Where did you come by that, Sam?' asked Pippin. 'I've never heard those words before.'

Sam muttered something inaudible.

'It's out of his own head, of course,' said Frodo. 'I am learning a lot about Sam Gamgee on this journey. First he was a conspirator, now he's a jester. He'll end up by becoming a wizard - or a warrior!'

'I hope not,' said Sam. 'I don't want to be neither!'

In the afternoon they went on down the woods. They were probably following the very track that Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves had used many years before. After a few miles they came out on the top of a high bank above the Road. At this point the Road had left the Hoarwell far behind in its narrow valley, and now clung close to the feet of the hills, rolling and winding eastward among woods and heather-covered slopes towards the Ford and the Mountains. Not far down the bank Strider pointed out a stone in the grass. On it roughly cut and now much weathered could still be seen dwarf-runes and secret marks.

'There!' said Merry. 'That must be the stone that marked the place where the trolls' gold was hidden. How much is left of Bilbo's share, I wonder, Frodo?'

'None at all,' he said. 'Bilbo gave it all away. He told me he did not feel it was really his, as it came from robbers.'

The Road lay quiet under the long shadows of early evening. There was no sign of any other travellers to be seen. As there was now no other possible course for them to take, they climbed down the bank, and turning left went off as fast as they could. Soon a shoulder of the hills cut off the light of the fast westering sun. A cold wind flowed down to meet them from the mountains ahead.

They were beginning to look out for a place off the Road, where they could camp for the night, when they heard a sound that brought sudden fear back into their hearts: the noise of hoofs behind them. They looked back, but they could not see far because of the many windings and rollings of the Road. As quickly as they could they scrambled off the beaten way and up into the deep heather and bilberry brushwood on the slopes above, until they came to a small patch of thick-growing hazels. As they peered out from among the bushes, they could see the Road, faint and grey in the failing light, some thirty feel below them. The sound of hoofs drew nearer. They were going fast, with a light clippety-clippely-clip. Then faintly, as if it was blown away from them by the breeze, they seemed to catch a dim ringing, as of small bells tinkling.

'That does not sound like a Black Rider's horse!' said Frodo.

The other hobbits agreed hopefully that it did not, but they all remained full of suspicion. They had been in fear of pursuit for so long that any sound from behind seemed ominous and unfriendly. But Strider and Shadow were now leaning forward, stooped to the ground, with a hand to his ear, and a look of joy on there faces.

'_**Aragorn, that is an Elven horse!**__'_ Shadow said excitedly.

'_**Yes, let us wait and see who it is.**__'_ He replied.

The light faded, and the leaves on the bushes rustled softly. Clearer and nearer now the bells jingled, and clippety-clip came the quick trotting feet. Suddenly into view below came a white horse, gleaming in the shadows, running swiftly. In the dusk its headstall flickered and flashed, as if it were studded with gems like living stars. The rider's cloak streamed behind him, and his hood was thrown back; his golden hair flowed shimmering in the wind of his speed.

Strider and Shadow sprang from hiding and dashed down towards the Road, leaping with a cry through the heather; but even before they had moved or called, the rider had reined in his horse and halted, looking up towards the thicket where they stood. When he saw Strider and Shadow, he dismounted and ran to meet him calling out:

'**Ai na vedui Dunadan! Mae govannen!**'

His speech and clear ringing voice left no doubt in their hearts: the rider was of the Elven-folk. No others that dwelt in the wide world had voices so fair to hear. Shadow ran forward and embraced the elf.

'**Glorfindel!**' She cried. "**It is good to see you, especially now."**

'**It is good to see you too Amhin*.**' He said. "**I have traveled far to find you**."

Glorfindel and Strider grasped each other's arms in greeting. Then Strider beckoned to the hobbits. They left the bushes and hurried down to the Road.

'This is Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond,' said Strider.

'Hail, and well met at last!' said the Elf-lord to Frodo. 'I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. We feared that you were in danger upon the road.'

'Then Gandalf has reached Rivendell?' cried Frodo joyfully.

'No. He had not when I departed; but that was nine days ago,' answered Glorfindel. 'Elrond received news that troubled him. Some of my kindred, journeying in your land beyond the Baranduin**, learned that things were amiss, and sent messages as swiftly as they could. They said that the Nine were abroad, and that you were astray bearing a great burden without guidance, for Gandalf had not returned. There are few even in Rivendell that can ride openly against the Nine; but such as there were, Elrond sent out north, west, and south. It was thought that you might turn far aside to avoid pursuit, and become lost in the Wilderness.

'It was my lot to take the Road, and I came to the Bridge of Mitheithel, and left a token there, nigh on seven days ago. Three of the servants of Sauron were upon the Bridge, but they withdrew and I pursued them westward. I came also upon two others, but they turned away southward. Since then I have searched for your trail. Two days ago I found it, and followed it over the Bridge; and today I marked where you descended from the hills again. But come! There is no time for further news. Since you are here we must risk the peril of the Road and go. There are five behind us, and when they find your trail upon the Road they will ride after us like the wind. And they are not all. Where the other four may be, I do not know. I fear that we may find the Ford is already held against us.'

While Glorfindel was speaking the shades of evening deepened. Frodo swayed, clutching at Sam's arm.

'My master is sick and wounded,' said Sam angrily. 'He can't go on riding after nightfall. He needs rest.'

Shadow caught Frodo as he sank to the ground, and handed him gently to Glorfindel. Briefly Strider and Shadow recounted he attack on their camp under Weathertop, and of the deadly knife. Strider drew out the hilt, which he had kept, and handed it to the Elf. Glorfindel shuddered as he took it, but he looked intently at it.

'There are evil things written on this hilt,' he said; 'though maybe your eyes cannot see them. Keep it, Aragorn, till we reach the house of Elrond! But be wary, and handle it as little as you may! Alas! The wounds of this weapon are beyond my skill to heal. I will do what I can - but all the more do I urge you now to go on without rest.'

He searched the wound on Frodo's shoulder with his fingers, and his face grew graver, as if what he learned disquieted him.

'You shall ride my horse,' said Glorfindel. 'I will shorten the stirrups up to the saddle-skins, and you must sit as tight as you can. But you need not fear: my horse will not let any rider fall that I command him to bear. His pace is light and smooth; and if danger presses too near, he will bear you away with a speed that even the black steeds of the enemy cannot rival.'

'No, he will not!' said Frodo. 'I shall not ride him, if I am to be carried off to Rivendell or anywhere else, leaving my friends behind in danger.'

Glorfindel smiled.

'I doubt very much,' he said, 'if your friends would be in danger if you were not with them! The pursuit would follow you and leave us in peace, I think. It is you, Frodo, and that which you bear that brings us all in peril.'

To that Frodo had no answer, and he was persuaded to mount Glorfindel's white horse. The pony was laden instead with a great part of the others' burdens, so that they now marched lighter, and for a time made good speed; but the hobbits began to find it hard to keep up with the swift tireless feet of the Elf. On he led them, into the mouth of darkness, and still on under the deep clouded night. There was neither star nor moon. Not until the grey of dawn did he allow them to halt. Pippin, Merry, and Sam were by that time nearly asleep on their stumbling legs; and even Strider and Shadow seemed by the sag of their shoulders to be weary.

They were allowed a little rest. When they came to a spot they cast themselves down in the heather a few yards from the road-side, and fell asleep immediately. They seemed hardly to have closed their eyes when Glorfindel, who had set himself to watch while they slept, awoke them again. The sun had now climbed far into the morning, and the clouds and mists of the night were gone.

'Drink this!' said Glorfindel to them, pouring for each in turn a little liquor from his silver-studded flask of leather. It was clear as spring water and had no taste, and it did not feel either cool or warm in the mouth; but strength and vigour seemed to flow into all their limbs as they drank it. Eaten after that draught the stale bread and dried fruit (which was now all that they had left) seemed to satisfy their hunger better than many a good breakfast in the Shire had done.

They had rested rather less than five hours when they took to the Road again. Glorfindel still urged them on, and only allowed two brief halts during the day's march. In this way they covered almost twenty miles before nightfall, and came to a point where the Road bent right and ran down towards the bottom of the valley, now making straight for the Bruinen. So far there had been no sign or sound of pursuit that the hobbits could see or hear; but often Glorfindel would halt and listen for a moment, if they lagged behind, and a look of anxiety clouded his face. Once or twice he spoke to Strider and Shadow in the elf-tongue.

But however anxious their guides might be, it was plain that the hobbits could go no further that night. They were stumbling along dizzy with weariness, and unable to think of anything but their feet and legs. Glorfindel allowed them to rest of the remainder of the night. Before she went to sleep, Shadow needed to speak with the Elf-Lord.

'**Glorfindel, a word?"** She asked.

He nodded and they went off a little ways together.

'**You remember the Dragons of old, do you not?**" She asked him.

'**I do, terrible, fearsome beast they were.**' He replied. '**Why do you ask?**'

'**I must introduce you to someone, but I ask that you do not be alarmed**.' Shadow said. '**She will not harm you.**'

Glorfindel nodded warily. Shadow called Minuial and the young Dragon landed in the small clearing behind them. She padded over and rested her head on Shadow's shoulder. Her nostrils twitched as she sniffed the air around the Elf, who stood stiffly several feet away. After her initial inspection of the newcomer, Minuial started to hum, a sign that she liked the person.

'_**Greetings Elf-Lord.**__'_ She said, speaking in hesitant elvish.

'**Greetings mighty Dragon**.' Glorfindel replied, in the same manner. '**You are with us?**'

'_**I am.**__'_ Minuial answered. '_**Vanya and I are connected, I can do nothing against her, her family, or her comrades. Nor is it my wish to harm them, I am not like my ancestors of old who pillaged and killed for jewels and riches to hoard.**__'_

'**That I am glad to hear.**' Glorfindel said, patting her nose slightly.

* * *

A/N: My legs hurt! I rode 25 miles in three days on my bike (and I haven't ridden since the end of last summer). Then on Sunday my youth group played "Paranoia" which had me on my knees at least six times to stop people from taking my flag. Oh well...

Rate and Review please!

~DD


	13. To Arrive on Time

Disclaimer:

DD: I don't own it.

Vanya: That is all?

DD: Yep, that's all.

Vanya: No random story about your life, or annoyance at something someone did?

DD: Nope.

Vanya: You are plotting something...

DD: Enjoy!

* * *

The hobbits were still weary, when they set out again early next morning. There were many miles yet to go between them and the Ford, and they hobbled forward at the best pace they could manage.

'Our peril will be greatest just ere we reach the river,' said Glorfindel; 'for my heart warns me that the pursuit is now swift behind us, and other danger may be waiting by the Ford.'

The Road was still running steadily downhill, and there was now in places much grass at either side, in which the hobbits walked when they could, to ease their tired feet. In the late afternoon they came to a place where the Road went suddenly under the dark shadow of tall pine-trees, and then plunged into a deep cutting with steep moist walls of red stone. Echoes ran along as they hurried forward; and there seemed to be a sound of many footfalls following their own. All at once, as if through a gate of light, the Road ran out again from the end of the tunnel into the open. There at the bottom of a sharp incline they saw before them a long flat mile, and beyond that the Ford of Rivendell. On the further side was a steep brown bank, threaded by a winding path; and behind that the tall mountains climbed, shoulder above shoulder, and peak beyond peak, into the fading sky.

There was still an echo as of following feet in the cutting behind them; a rushing noise as if a wind were rising and pouring through the branches of the pines. One moment Glorfindel turned and listened, then he sprang forward with a loud cry.

'Fly!' he called. 'Fly! The enemy is upon us!'

The white horse leaped forward. The hobbits ran down the slope, Minuial flew over top of them to keep an eye on them. Glorfindel, Strider, and Shadow followed as rear-guard. They were only half way across the flat, when suddenly there was a noise of horses galloping. Out of the gate in the trees that they had just left rode a Black Rider. He reined his horse in, and halted, swaying in his saddle. Another followed him, and then another; then again two more.

'Ride forward! Ride!' cried Glorfindel to Frodo.

He did not obey at once. His hand left the bridle and gripped the hilt of his sword, and with a red flash he drew it.

'Ride on! Ride on!' cried Glorfindel, and then loud and clear he called to the horse in the elf-tongue:

'**Noro lim, noro lim, Asfaloth!**'

At once the white horse sprang away and sped like the wind along the last lap of the Road. At the same moment the black horses leaped down the hill in pursuit, and from the Riders came a terrible cry. It was answered; and to the dismay of the company out from the trees and rocks away on the left four other Riders came flying. Two rode towards Frodo: two galloped madly towards the Ford to cut off his escape. They seemed to run like the wind and to grow swiftly larger and darker, as their courses converged with his.

The presence of the riders caused Shadow to shift, but her eyes were golden. Strider and Glorfindel quickly made torches and gave them to the hobbits. Shadow ran on with Glorfindel in an attempt to dismay the black riders. The waters rolled and plunged as the rose and rushed towards the riders. The waters took on the shape of white riders upon white horses with frothing manes. The three Riders that were in the midst of the Ford were overwhelmed: they disappeared, buried suddenly under angry foam. Those that were behind drew back in dismay. But Glorfindel and Shadow kept them from retreating. Soon Strider and the Hobbits came and pushed the horses forward. Minuial flew overhead and swooped down, roaring as she came.

The black horses were filled with madness, and leaping forward in terror they bore their riders into the rushing flood. Their piercing cries were drowned in the roaring of the river as it carried them away. Glorfindel ran swiftly across the river to Frodo's side. He had fallen off the horse and lay as if dead. The Elf-Lord took him quickly into the House of Elrond; Strider, Shadow, and the hobbits followed behind. Shadow changed back and Minuial followed behind them.

They had gotten Frodo to Rivendell in time, for Elrond was able to heal him. It was several days before Frodo came too. Shadow spent much of her time with Minuial in the gardens, while Strider was with Arwen. The second day, as Shadow and Minuial were speaking, a person walked towards them. Minuial snorted and turned towards the man. She bared her teeth at the stranger. But Shadow stood up, ran over and embraced him.

'Gandalf!' She cried joyfully. 'You made it! We were worried for you when you did not come to Bree and then when Glorfindel said you were not here either.'

'There is no cause for worry, I am here now. Am I not?' Gandalf replied.

Shadow nodded, smiling.

'Now, who is this?' He asked, point to Minuial.

'Of course, I must introduce you.' Shadow said hurriedly. 'Gandalf, this is my Dragon Miniual. Minuial, this is an old friend. His name is Gandalf.'

The Dragon walked over and sniffed Gandalf. Then, she turned her head and looked piercingly at him with her brilliant golden eye. Gandalf stood still as she searched him. She snorted and a hum came from her throat.

'_I like him.'_ She said to Shadow, then she threw her thoughts to Gandalf. '_I am pleased to meet you, Wizard. Vanya has spoken about much about you.'_

'Good things, I pray.' Gandalf replied.

'_Yes, very good things.'_ Minuial told him.

'Why did you not meet us in Bree, Gandalf?' Shadow questioned.

'Do not worry, I shall tell you.' Gandalf answered. 'But not now. Elrond is calling a meeting for in two days' time. It shall all be explained then.'

'Is that why there are other newcomers?' Shadow asked.

'Yes, they have come for answers and to share information about what is happening around us.'

'There is one here that I take no liking to.' Shadow commented.

'Which one is that?' Gandalf asked.

'His name is Boromir, he comes from Gondor.' She answered. 'But he seems haughty and proud.'

'_He is a little girl.'_ Minuial commented. '_When he saw me he drew his sword to attack. I quickly released him of his weapon. He then proceeded to collapse to his knees and beg for his miserable hide.'_

Shadow had trouble hiding her laughter. Gandalf sighed, and walked away. Shadow and Minuial spent the rest of the day in the garden. The dinner bell was rung at seven and everyone gathered in the large dining hall. Minuial was just small enough to fit through the doors still. There was much talk and laughter; the elves laughter rang out clearest. It continued into the night, but Shadow took her leave at ten. As she and her dragon headed to their room, two figures stepped out of the library.

'**Elrohir, Elladan**!' She exclaimed, embracing them. '**I was told you were not to return till tomorrow.**'

'**Vanya, how good it is to see you again!" **Said the elder twin, Elladan, returning her embrace.

'**We had started to worry when you and your father were late bringing the hobbits.**' The younger, Elrohir, said also returning her embrace.

'_Vanya, who are they?'_ Minuial asked.

'_They are my uncles, however I consider them more as older brothers. Let me introduce you.'_ Shadow replied.

'**There is someone I wish for you to meet.**' She turned to Minuial. '**Elladan, Elrohir. This is Minuial, she is my Dragon.**'

The twins were rather shocked at first. Minual sniffed each one, then gazed at them in turn with her large golden eye. She dipped her head and started humming.

'_**It is good to meet two related to Vanya.**_' She said to them.

'**It is a pleasure to meet you, great Dragon.**' Elrohir replied.

'**Indeed.**' Elladan commented. '**You are keeping Vanya out of trouble I pray?**'

He ruffled Shadow's hair. She playfully pushed him away, laughing.

'_**I do my best.**_' Minuial answered. '_**She is a handful though. As you two know well, I am sure.**_'

'**That we do. We watched her grow up.**'

'**The three of you may speak about how hard I am to keep track of or as long as you wish. I for one am going to bed. Goodnight.**' Shadow said.

'**Goodnight Vanya.**' They said.

Shadow retired to her room and curled up in her bed. She sighed contentedly. It was good to be back.

* * *

A/N: FF is being a butt and won't let me put up more chapters for one of my stories. Oh well... Yeah, my life is pretty boring right now...

Oh! I "rescued" a young falcon the other day. I saw him on the ground and his wing was at an odd angle. I picked him up and checked him out. He was ok and then I let him go again. Two of my friends were outside with me and freaked out because I picked him up. They kept saying he was going to eat me and I was going to get rabies and die. When I let him go he flew over their heads (probably to get back at them for saying he looked evil) and they ran back inside the building.


	14. The Council of Elrond Pt 1

Disclaimer:

DD: I'm watching Doctor Who. The 1st episode of season one is really confusing...

Vanya: Stetsons' are cool

DD: Yes, one of my counter personality (a.k.a, Vanya) is now addicted to Doctor Who as well.

Vanya: Shut up! It's still playing!

DD: Right then, I don't own it. Oh! And before I forget, I would like to thank Calyn for telling me to inform my readers of this. Most of what is in my fanfiction is directly out of the books. I have inserted a little of my own work, but a very good portion of it is from Tolkien. Now, enjo

* * *

Two days passed quickly, on the second day, in the late morning a single clear bell rang out. It was the warning bell for the Council of Elrond. It was twenty minutes later when the Hobbits arrived in the courtyard where the meeting was being held. Elrond was there, and several others were seated in silence about him. Glorfindel was there. Beside Glorfindel there were several other counsellors of Elrond's household, of whom Erestor was the chief; and with him was Galdor, an Elf from the Grey Havens who had come on an errand from Círdan the Shipwright. There was also a strange Elf clad in green and brown, Legolas, a messenger from his father, Thranduil, the King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood. An older dwarf named Glóin sat across from the elves. There was a younger dwarf at Glóin's side: his son Gimli.

And seated a little apart was a tall man with a fair and noble face, dark-haired and grey-eyed, proud and stern of glance. He was cloaked and booted as if for a journey on horseback; and indeed though his garments were rich, and his cloak was lined with fur, they were stained with long travel. He had a collar of silver in which a single white stone was set; his locks were shorn about his shoulders. On a baldric he wore a great horn tipped with silver that now was laid upon his knees.

'Here,' said Elrond, turning to Gandalf, 'is Boromir, a man from the South. He arrived in the grey morning, and seeks for counsel. I have bidden him to be present, for here his questions will be answered.'

In a corner alone Strider and Shadow were sitting, clad in their old travel-worn clothes again. Minuial lay behind Shadow's chair. Her head resting on her paws.

Elrond drew Frodo to a seat by his side, and presented him to the company, saying:

'Here, my friends is the hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo. Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent.'

Much was said of events in the world outside, especially in the South, and in the wide lands east of the Mountains. Glóin spoke up and told of the troubles the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain faced. He spoke of how the Dwarves delved in Moria. But they delved too deep, and awoke the nameless fear that was kept in the deepest pit. The dwarves fled from the chambers. Then Balin and several followers went back, called in by the whispers from the deep. They had gone nearly thirty years back, and word passed between the Dwarves for a while. Then, a silence fell, and they had not been heard from until the year before.

A single messenger came to Dáin, but not from Moria, from Mordor: a horseman in the night, who called Dáin to his gate. The Lord Sauron the Great, so he said, wished for their friendship. Rings he would give for it, such as he gave of old. And he asked urgently concerning hobbits, of what kind they were, and where they dwelt.

"For Sauron knows," said he, "that one of these was known to you on a time."

At that the Dwarves were greatly troubled, and they gave no answer. Sauron offered as a small token of friendship. They would find their thief and get from him, willing or no, a little ring, the least of rings that once he stole, in earnest of his good will. If they found it, the three rings that the Dwarf sires possessed of old would be returned to them, and the realm of Moria would be theirs for ever. They would have great reward and lasting friendship from the Lord Sauron were they to find news of Bilbo, and where he lived. Were they to refuse, and things would go poorly for them.

So I have been sent at last by Dáin to warn Bilbo that he is sought by the Enemy,' Glóin said. 'and to learn, if may be, why he desires this ring, this least of rings. Also we crave the advice of Elrond. For the Shadow grows and draws nearer. We discover that messengers have come also to King Brand in Dale, and that he is afraid. We fear that he may yield. Already war is gathering on his eastern borders. If we make no answer, the Enemy may move Men of his rule to assail King Brand, and Dáin also.'

'You have done well to come,' said Elrond. 'You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than to resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. You will learn that your trouble is but part of the trouble of all the western world. The Ring! What shall we do with the Ring, the least of rings, the trifle that Sauron fancies? That is the doom that we must deem.

That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are here met, in this very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world.

Now, therefore, things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the Tale of the Ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it.'

Then all listened while Elrond in his clear voice spoke of Sauron and the Rings of Power, and their forging in the Second Age of the world long ago. A part of his tale was known to some there, but the full tale to none, and many eyes were turned to Elrond in fear and wonder as he told of the Elven-smiths of Eregion and their friendship with Moria, and their eagerness for knowledge, by which Sauron ensnared them. For in that time he was not yet evil to behold, and they received his aid and grew mighty in craft, whereas he learned all their secrets, and betrayed them, and forged secretly in the Mountain of Fire the One Ring to be their master. But Celebrimbor was aware of him, and hid the Three which he had made; and there was war, and the land was laid waste, and the gate of Moria was shut.

The sun rode up the sky, and the morning was passing ere he ceased.

Of Númenor he spoke, its glory and its fall, and the return of the Kings of Men to Middle-earth out of the deeps of the Sea, borne upon the wings of storm. Then Elendil the Tall and his mighty sons, Isildur and Anárion, became great lords; and the North-realm they made in Arnor, and the South-realm in Gondor above the mouths of Anduin. But Sauron of Mordor assailed them, and they made the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, and the hosts of Gil-galad and Elendil were mustered in Arnor.

Thereupon Elrond paused a while and sighed.

'I remember well the splendour of their banners,' he said. 'It recalled to me the glory of the Elder Days and the hosts of Beleriand, so many great princes and captains were assembled. And yet not so many, nor so fair, as when Thangorodrim was broken, and the Elves deemed that evil was ended for ever, and it was not so.'

'You remember?' said Frodo, speaking his thought aloud in his astonishment. 'But I thought,' he stammered as Elrond turned towards him, 'I thought that the fall of Gil-galad was a long age ago.'

'So it was indeed,' answered Elrond gravely. 'But my memory reaches back even to the Elder Days. Eärendil was my sire, who was born in Gondolin before its fall; and my mother was Elwing, daughter of Dior, son of Lúthien of Doriath. I have seen three ages in the West of the world, and many defeats, and many fruitless victories.

I was the herald of Gil-galad and marched with his host. I was at the Battle of Dagorlad before the Black Gate of Mordor, where we had the mastery: for the Spear of Gil-galad and the Sword of Elendil, Aiglos and Narsil, none could withstand. I beheld the last combat on the slopes of Orodruin, where Gil-galad died, and Elendil fell, and Narsil broke beneath him; but Sauron himself was overthrown, and Isildur cut the Ring from his hand with the hilt-shard of his father's sword, and took it for his own.'

At this the stranger, Boromir, broke in.

'So that is what became of the Ring!' he cried. 'If ever such a tale was told in the South, it has long been forgotten. I have heard of the Great Ring of him that we do not name; but we believed that it perished from the world in the ruin of his first realm. Isildur took it! That is tidings indeed.'

'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our counsel.

"This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it. But soon he was betrayed by it to his death; and so it is named in the North Isildur's Bane. Yet death maybe was better than what else might have befallen him.

Only to the North did these tidings come, and only to a few. Small wonder it is that you have not heard them, Boromir. From the ruin of the Gladden Fields, where Isildur perished, three men only came ever back over the mountains after long wandering. One of these was Ohtar, the esquire of Isildur, who bore the shards of the sword of Elendil; and he brought them to Valandil, the heir of Isildur, who being but a child had remained here in Rivendell. But Narsil was broken and its light extinguished, and it has not yet been forged again.'


	15. The Council of Elrond Pt 2

Disclaimer:

DD: My laptop still doesn't have microsoft word :( It only has Works and I can't transfer the files on my computer. So I am using the family computer, and shall transfer my files here. And that is my boring excuse for why I was late, it won't happen again... maybe.

* * *

There was a pause, and Elrond spoke again.

'Fruitless did I call the victory of the Last Alliance? Not wholly so, yet it did not achieve its end. Sauron was diminished, but not destroyed. His Ring was lost but not unmade. The Dark Tower was broken, but its foundations were not removed; for they were made with the power of the Ring, and while it remains they will endure. Many Elves and many mighty Men, and many of their friends. had perished in the war. Anárion was slain, and Isildur was slain; and Gil-galad and Elendil were no more. Never again shall there be any such league of Elves and Men; for Men multiply and the Firstborn decrease, and the two kindreds are estranged. And ever since that day the race of Númenor has decayed, and the span of their years has lessened.

In the North after the war and the slaughter of the Gladden Fields the Men of Westernesse were diminished, and their city of Annúminas beside Lake Evendim fell into ruin; and the heirs of Valandil removed and dwelt at Fornost on the high North Downs, and that now too is desolate. Men call it Deadmen's Dike, and they fear to tread there. For the folk of Arnor dwindled, and their foes devoured them, and their lordship passed, leaving only green mounds in the grassy hills.

In the South the realm of Gondor long endured; and for a while its splendour grew, recalling somewhat of the might of Númenor, ere it fell. High towers that people built, and strong places. and havens of many ships; and the winged crown of the Kings of Men was held in awe by folk of many tongues. Their chief city was Osgiliath, Citadel of the Stars. through the midst of which the River flowed. And Minas Ithil they built, Tower of the Rising Moon, eastward upon a shoulder of the Mountains of Shadow; and westward at the feet of the White Mountains Minas Anor they made, Tower of the Setting Sun. There in the courts of the King grew a white tree, from the seed of that tree which Isildur brought over the deep waters, and the seed of that tree before came from Eressëa, and before that out of the Uttermost West in the Day before days when the world was young.

But in the wearing of the swift years of Middle-earth the line of Meneldil son of Anárion failed, and the Tree withered, and the blood of the Númenoreans became mingled with that of lesser men. Then the watch upon the walls of Mordor slept, and dark things crept back to Gorgoroth. And on a time evil things came forth, and they took Minas Ithil and abode in it, and they made it into a place of dread; and it is called Minas Morgul, the Tower of Sorcery. Then Minas Anor was named anew Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard; and these two cities were ever at war, but Osgiliath which lay between was deserted and in its ruins shadows walked.

So it has been for many lives of men. But the Lords of Minas Tirith still fight on, defying our enemies, keeping the passage of the River from Argonath to the Sea. And now that part of the tale that I shall tell is drawn to its close. For in the days of Isildur the Ruling Ring passed out of all knowledge, and the Three were released from its dominion. But now in this latter day they are in peril once more, for to our sorrow the One has been found. Others shall speak of its finding, for in that I played small part.'

He ceased, but at once Boromir stood up, tall and proud, before them.

'Give me leave, Master Elrond,' He said, 'first to say more of Gondor; for verily from the land of Gondor I am come. And it would be well for all to know what passes there. For few, I deem, know of our deeds, and therefore guess little of their peril, if we should fail at last.

Believe not that in the land of Gondor the blood of Númenor is spent, nor all its pride and dignity forgotten. By our valour the wild folk of the East are still restrained, and the terror of Morgul kept at bay; and thus alone are peace and freedom maintained in the lands behind us, bulwark of the West. But if the passages of the River should be won, what then?

Yet that hour, maybe, is not now far away. The Nameless Enemy has arisen again. Smoke rises once more from Orodruin that we call Mount Doom. The power of the Black Land grows and we are hard beset. When the Enemy returned our folk were driven from Ithilien, our fair domain east of the River, though we kept a foothold there and strength of arms. But this very year, in the days of June, sudden war came upon us out of Mordor, and we were swept away. We were outnumbered, for Mordor has allied itself with the Easterlings and the cruel Haradrim; but it was not by numbers that we were defeated. A power was there that we have not felt before.

Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on our boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath.

I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming: my brother and myself and two others. But still we fight on, holding all the west shores of Anduin; and those who shelter behind us give us praise, if ever they hear our name: much praise but little help. Only from Rohan now will any men ride to us when we call.

In this evil hour I have come on an errand over many dangerous leagues to Elrond: a hundred and ten days I have journeyed all alone. But I do not seek allies in war. The might of Elrond is in wisdom not in weapons, it is said. I come to ask for counsel and the unravelling of hard words. For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me.

In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:

Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur's Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand.

Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed the dream and seek for Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to give me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.'

'And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you' said Aragorn, standing up. He cast his sword upon the table that stood before Elrond, and the blade was in two pieces.

'Here is the Sword that was Broken!' Vanya said, standing beside her father.

'And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?' asked Boromir, looking in wonder at the faces of the Rangers and their weather-stained cloaks.

It was only then that he fully noticed Minuial lying behind the chair. He backed up slightly as she blew a puff of smoke from her nostrils.

'They are Aragorn son of Arathorn, and his daughter Vanya,' said Elrond; 'and they are descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil. they are Chief and Captain of the Dúnedain in the North, and few are now left of that folk.'

'Then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!' cried Frodo in amazement, springing to his feet, as if he expected the Ring to be demanded at once.

'It does not belong to either of us,' said Aragorn; 'but it has been ordained that you should hold it for a while.'

'Bring out the Ring, Frodo!' said Gandalf solemnly. 'The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle.

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A/N: So, here is part two of "The Council of Elrond". There is about ten parts to this chapter, because it was very long, and very arduous. I know it's a lot, and I'll try to cut down some more. But it is all coming from the books, and a lot of it is important. Don't forget to Rate and Review!

~DD


	16. The Council of Elrond Pt 3

Disclaimer:

DD: I do not own Lord of the Rings. The only thing I own are Vanya, Minuial, and my plot.

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There was a hush, and all turned their eyes on Frodo. The Ring gleamed and flickered as he held it up before them in his trembling hand.

'Behold Isildur's Bane!' said Elrond.

Boromir's eyes glinted as he gazed at the golden thing.

'The Halfling!' he muttered. 'Is then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?'

'The words were not the doom of Minas Tirith,' said Aragorn. 'But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand. For the Sword that was Broken is the Sword of Elendil that broke beneath him when he fell. It has been treasured by his heirs when all other heirlooms were lost; for it was spoken of old among us that it should be made again when the Ring, Isildur's Bane, was found.

'Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask?' Said Vanya. 'Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?'

'I was not sent to beg any boon, but to seek only the meaning of a riddle,' answered Boromir proudly. 'Yet we are hard pressed, and the Sword of Elendil would be a help beyond our hope-if such a thing could indeed return out of the shadows of the past.' He looked again at Aragorn and Vanya, and doubt was in his eyes.

Bilbo stirred impatiently. Evidently he was annoyed on his friend's behalf. Standing suddenly up he burst out:

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken:

The crownless again shall be king.

'Not very good perhaps, but to the point - if you need more beyond the word of Elrond. If that was worth a journey of a hundred and ten days to hear, you had best listen to it.'

He sat down with a snort.

'I made that up myself,' he whispered to Frodo, 'for the Dúnadan and the *Amben, a long time ago when they first told me about themselves. I almost wish that my adventures were not over, and that I could go with them when their day comes.'

Aragorn and Vanya smiled at him; then Aragorn turned to Boromir again.

'For my part I forgive your doubt,' he said. 'Little do we resemble the figures of Elendil and Isildur as they stand carven in their majesty in the halls of Denethor. I am but the heir of Isildur, not Isildur himself. We have had a hard life and a long; and the leagues that lie between here and Gondor are a small part in the count of our journeys. We have crossed many mountains and many rivers, and trodden many plains, even into the far countries of Rhûn and Harad where the stars are strange.

But our home, such as we have, is in the North. For here the heirs of Valandil have ever dwelt in long line unbroken from father unto son for many generations. Our days have darkened, and we have dwindled; but ever the Sword has passed to a new keeper. And this I will say to you, Boromir, ere I end. Lonely men are we, Rangers of the wild, hunters-but hunters ever of the servants of the Enemy; for they are found in many places, not in Mordor only.'

'If Gondor, Boromir, has been a stalwart tower, we have played another part.' Vanya said. 'Many evil things there are that your strong walls and bright swords do not stay. You know little of the lands beyond your bounds. Peace and freedom, do you say? The North would have known them little but for us. Fear would have destroyed them. But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us. What roads would any dare to tread, what safety would there be in quiet lands, or in the homes of simple men at night, if the Dúnedain were asleep, or were all gone into the grave?

And yet less thanks have we than you. Travellers scowl at us, and countrymen give us scornful names. "Strider" and "Shadow" we am to one fat man who lives within a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly.'

She paused and took a slow breath.

'Yet we would not have it otherwise. If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so. That has been the task of my kindred, while the years have lengthened and the grass has grown.'

'But now the world is changing once again.' Said Aragorn. 'A new hour comes. Isildur's Bane is found. Battle is at hand. The Sword shall be reforged. We will come to Minas Tirith.'

'Isildur's Bane is found, you say,' said Boromir. 'I have seen a bright ring in the Halfling's hand; but Isildur perished ere this age of the world began, they say. How do the Wise know that this ring is his? And how has it passed down the years, until it is brought hither by so strange a messenger?'

'That shall be told,' said Elrond.

'But not yet, I beg, Master!' said Bilbo. 'Already the Sun is climbing to noon, and I feel the need of something to strengthen me.'

'I had not named you,' said Elrond smiling. 'But I do so now. Come! Tell us your tale. And if you have not yet cast your story into verse, you may tell it in plain words. The briefer, the sooner shall you be refreshed.'

'Very well,' said Bilbo. 'I will do as you bid. But I will now tell the true story, and if some here have heard me tell it otherwise' - he looked sidelong at Glóin - 'I ask them to forget it and forgive me. I only wished to claim the treasure as my very own in those days, and to be rid of the name of thief that was put on me. But perhaps I understand things a little better now. Anyway, this is what happened.'

To some there Bilbo's tale was wholly new, and they listened with amazement while the old hobbit, actually not at all displeased, recounted his adventure with Gollum, at full length. He did not omit a single riddle. He would have given also an account of his party and disappearance from the Shire, if he had been allowed; but Elrond raised his hand.

'Well told, my friend,' he said, 'but that is enough at this time. For the moment it suffices to know that the Ring passed to Frodo, your heir. Let him now speak!'

Then, less willingly than Bilbo, Frodo told of all his dealings with the Ring from the day that it passed into his keeping. Every step of his journey from Hobbiton to the Ford of Bruinen was questioned and considered, and everything that he could recall concerning the Black Riders was examined. At last he sat down again.

'Not bad,' Bilbo said to him. 'You would have made a good story of it, if they hadn't kept on interrupting. I tried to make a few notes, but we shall have to go over it all again together some time, if I am to write it up. There are whole chapters of stuff before you ever got here!'

'Yes, it made quite a long tale,' answered Frodo. 'But the story still does not seem complete to me. I still want to know a good deal, especially about Gandalf.'

Galdor of the Havens, who sat near by, overheard him.

'You speak for me also,' he cried, and turning to Elrond he said: 'The Wise may have good reason to believe that the halfling's trove is indeed the Great Ring of long debate, unlikely though that may seem to those who know less. But may we not hear the proofs? And I would ask this also. What of Saruman? He is learned in the lore of the Rings, yet he is not among us. What is his counsel-if he knows the things that we have heard?'

'The questions that you ask, Galdor, are bound together,' said Elrond. 'I had not overlooked them, and they shall be answered. But these things it is the part of Gandalf to make clear; and I call upon him last, for it is the place of honour, and in all this matter he has been the chief.'

'Some, Galdor,' said Gandalf, 'would think the tidings of Glóin, and the pursuit of Frodo, proof enough that the halfling's trove is a thing of great worth to the Enemy. Yet it is a ring. What then? The Nine the Nazgûl keep. The Seven are taken or destroyed.'

At this Glóin stirred, but did not speak.

'The Three we know of. What then is this one that he desires so much?'

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A/N: Real life decided to play the Pied Piper. Any way, sorry to keep you all waiting for the next chapter. Here it is, hope you enjoyed it. Happy fourth of July all!

~ Dragon

*Amben - Dragon Rider


	17. The Council of Elrond Pt 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Only Vanya, Minuial, and my part of the plot.

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Gandlaf began his tale, he told how he was lulled by Saruman's twisted words, and did not see the danger presented from the wizard. Gandalf found out that the creature, Gollum, had been created by the ring.

'From the first my heart misgave me, against all reason that I knew,' said Gandalf, 'and I desired to know how this thing came to Gollum, and how long he had possessed it. So I set a watch for him, guessing that he would ere long come forth from his darkness to seek for his treasure. He came, but he escaped and was not found. And then alas! I let the matter rest, watching and waiting only, as we have too often done.

That was seventeen years ago. Soon I became aware that spies of many sorts, even beasts and birds, were gathered round the Shire, and my fear grew. I called for the help of the Dúnedain, and their watch was doubled; and I opened my heart to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur.'

'And I,' said Aragorn, 'counselled that we should hunt for Gollum. Too late though it may seem. And since it seemed fit that Isildur's heir should labour to repair Isildur's fault, Vanya and I went with Gandalf on the long and hopeless search.'

Then Gandalf told how they had explored the whole length of Wilderland, down even to the Mountains of Shadow and the fences of Mordor.

'There we had rumour of him, and we guess that he dwelt there long in the dark hills; but we never found him, and at last I despaired. And then in my despair I thought again of a test that might make the finding of Gollum unneeded. The ring itself might tell if it were the One. The memory of words at the Council came back to me: words of Saruman, half-heeded at the time. I heard them now clearly in my heart.

"The Nine, the Seven, and the Three," he said, "had each their proper gem. Not so the One. It was round and unadorned, as it were one of the lesser rings; but its maker set marks upon it that the skilled, maybe, could still see and read."

Gandalf told that he ceased the chase for Gollum, and went to find more information on the rings. He went to the record halls of Gondor, and studied long. There were many scrolls, more than could be counted. Most of which had in all likelihood, never been read before. Isildur wrote down his own scroll for himself.

'Isildur did not march away straight from the war in Mordor, as some have told the tale.' He said.

'Some in the North, maybe,' Boromir broke in. 'All know in Gondor that he went first to Minas Anor and dwelt a while with his nephew Meneldil, instructing him, before he committed to him the rule of the South Kingdom. In that time he planted there the last sapling of the White Tree in memory of his brother.'

'But in that time also he made this scroll,' said Gandalf; 'and that is not remembered in Gondor, it would seem. For this scroll concerns the Ring, and thus wrote Isildur therein:

The Great Ring shall go now to be an heirloom of the North Kingdom; but records of it shall be left in Gondor, where also dwell the heirs of Elendil, lest a time come when the memory of these great matters shall grow dim.

And after these words Isildur described the Ring, such as he found it.

"It was hot when I first took it, hot as a glede, and my hand was scorched, so that I doubt if ever again I shall be free of the pain of it. Yet even as I write it is cooled, and it seemeth to shrink, though it loseth neither its beauty nor its shape. Already the writing upon it, which at first was as clear as red flame, fadeth and is now only barely to be read. It is fashioned in an elven-script of Eregion, for they have no letters in Mordor for such subtle work; but the language is unknown to me. I deem it to be a tongue of the Black Land, since it is foul and uncouth. What evil it saith I do not know; but I trace here a copy of it, lest it fade beyond recall. The Ring misseth, maybe, the heat of Sauron's hand, which was black and yet burned like fire, and so Gil-galad was destroyed; and maybe were the gold made hot again, the writing would be refreshed. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain."

Gandalf need no longer search for answers once he had read that scroll. Isildur wrote what had been written on the ring, in the language of Mordor. Gandalf took leave of Denethor. As he went northwards, Gandalf received messages from Lórien that Aragorn and Vanya had passed that way, and that they had found the creature called Gollum. So he found them and asked them of their adventures, before finishing his travels.

'There is little need to tell of them,' said Aragorn.

To find the creature, Aragorn and Vanya traveled by the Black Gate, and past the Morgul Vale. After a time, they despaired of finding Gollum, and at last they began their homeward journey. But by fortune, they came suddenly on that which they looked for. Marks of soft feet beside a muddy pool. The trail was fresh and swift, and it led not to Mordor but away. Along the skirts of the Dead Marshes they followed it, and then they had him. Lurking by a stagnant mere, peering in the water as the dark eve fell, Aragorn caught him, Gollum. They had him walk before them with a halter on his neck, gagged, until he was tamed by lack of drink and food, driving him ever towards Mirkwood. They brought him there at last and gave him to the Elves, for it had been agreed that that should be done. Gandalf came and endured long speech with him.

'Yes, long and weary,' said Gandalf, 'but not without profit. For one thing, the tale he told of his loss agreed with that which Bilbo has now told openly for the first time; but that mattered little, since I had already guessed it. But I learned then first that Gollum's ring came out of the Great River nigh to the Gladden Fields. And I learned also that he had possessed it long. Many lives of his small kind. The power of the ring had lengthened his years far beyond their span; but that power only the Great Rings wield.

And if that is not proof enough, Galdor, there is the other test that I spoke of. Upon this very ring which you have here seen held aloft, round and unadorned, the letters that Isildur reported may still be read, if one has the strength of will to set the golden thing in the fire a while. That I have done, and this I have read:

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."'

The change in the wizard's voice was astounding. Suddenly it became menacing, powerful, harsh as stone. A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch for a moment grew dark. All trembled, and the Elves stopped their ears. The dark words that Gandalf spoke effected Vanya most of all. Her eyes turned yellow and she trembled violently. Aragorn quickly grasped her right hand, as her left crushed the arm of the chair in which she sat. It took all of her will power not to do the same to her father's hand. She locked gazes with Gandalf and bared her teeth. Minuial put her nose on Vanya's shoulder and hummed. The deep resonance of it rumbled through her.

Gandalf finished speaking. Vanya ceased shaking, and she unclenched her hand from the arm of her chair. Aragorn glanced at her, making sure she was alright. Vanya nodded and Aragorn released her hand. Minuial snorted softly and turned a Golden eye on her.

'_You are alright now?'_ She asked.

'_Yes, I am fine.'_ Vanya replied. '_Thank you.'_

'Never before has any voice dared to utter the words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey,' said Elrond, as the shadow passed and the company breathed once more.

'And let us hope that none will ever speak it here again,' answered Gandalf. 'Nonetheless I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond. However I ask yours Vanya, I had forgotten and did not think.'

Vanya nodded.

'If that tongue is not soon to be heard in every corner of the West,' Gandalf continued. 'then let all put doubt aside that this thing is indeed what the Wise have declared: the treasure of the Enemy, fraught with all his malice; and in it lies a great part of his strength of old. Out of the Black Years come the words that the Smiths of Eregion heard, and knew that they had been betrayed:

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them."

All sat silent for a while, until at length Boromir spoke.

'He is a small thing, you say, this Gollum? Small, but great in mischief. What became of him? To what doom did you put him?'

'He is in prison, but no worse,' said Aragorn. 'He had suffered much. There is no doubt that he was tormented, and the fear of Sauron lies black on his heart. Still I for one am glad that he is safely kept by the watchful Elves of Mirkwood. His malice is great and gives him a strength hardly to be believed in one so lean and withered. He could work much mischief still, if he were free. And I do not doubt that he was allowed to leave Mordor on some evil errand.'

'Alas! alas!' cried Legolas, and in his fair elvish face there was great distress. 'The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told. They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to this company. Sméagol, who is now called Gollum, has escaped.'

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A/N: See how nice I am? Two chapters in one day. I highly doubt this will ever happen again. Enjoy.

~ Dragon


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